Family
by Ringhuiniele
Summary: The story is set when Estel is a young kid growing up in the House of Elrond.The Elves from Rivendell rescue a young girl and helps her to be reunited with her family.[A/N:Made a lot to tweaks in previously uploaded chapters & uploaded new ones. ]
1. The Chase

Chapter One: The Chase  
  
Anathea ran as fast as her legs could permit despite feeling the tightness in her chest resulting from the exertion she was putting herself as she forced her legs to make longer strides while fleeing from the five men chasing her. White spots have manifested before her eyes resulting from the obvious strain of the long run. She desperately gulped in another breath that while in her frantic haste she succeeded in missing her footing on a very uneven ground. Pulling herself upright before loosing her balance was hard when she almost fell face down to the ground. Another pang of pain surfaced from somewhere near her mid-section. She remembered getting it when she fell off from the horse while she and her sister were trying to get away from the men. They were thrown off from the saddle when a man jumped them. The next thing she knew, she was running away and that her sister was fighting them off so that they would not follow her. Her sister's shouts rang inside her mind again, urging her to keep running and to never look back. She did run but she frighteningly knew that her sense of direction was gone too. The unfamiliar terrain taunted her while she ran but she forced herself not to listen to the fear but concentrated on the intent that was in her mind - escape from these pursuers.  
  
She wiped away an errant tear that was blurring her vision. The action did not help much and realized she was having a hard time seeing through her left eye. A wave of panic gripped her heart while she blinked again but the blurred vision would not go away.  
  
She pushed her limbs again and for a moment managed to outdistance the men. But for how long will she be able to keep the pace. She wondered. They were closely gaining ground and she could hear their laugh. They were playing with her. That much she knew. They wanted to tire her out so she would not fight, like her sister.  
  
Norleana, she thought of her sister as she blinked away the tears that were falling.  
  
The frantic bobbing motions of her head as she searched for some shelter to hide from her pursuers made it look hopeless from the men's' point of view and this fueled them to keep an easy pace with the girl. They knew there was no one on this deserted plain to help her.  
  
Anathea found nothing that could help her situation and with that knowledge at hand, it turned to worry. However, while she does add that little distance she thinks she has, worry turned to fear and it stabbed her heart more than ever. What will become of her on this flat black-brown land before her? Will she face the same fate as sister?  
  
The growing dimness over the area signaled the coming dusk and this only heightened her fears. She began to cry harder this time and the tears streamed down her dirt stricken face. I have to escape! Please someone help me! Her mind echoed the frightened thoughts repeatedly. Then she gasped. She felt the heat behind her. No. No. Don't turn your back! It's them, the bad men! Her mind seemed to scream inside her. She pushed herself forward almost leaping out from where she last stood.  
  
However, through her panic, she did not see a small outcrop jutting out just a little. The protrusion was enough to catch her foot and in her desperate flight, she was sent flying for couple of yards before landing with a dull thud as she hit the ground. It knocked in the process, most of the wind out from her lungs.  
  
It was terrible. She burst into sobs now when a pain coming from her chest rattled inside her head. She lay prone motionless for a while, saved for her continued crying and now coughing as the grit swept into her dry mouth while heaving another ragged breath. She knew the men were upon her but why weren't they.  
  
The men stopped to walk as they saw their prize fall on the ground.  
  
"So, our little bird is now exhausted." The gravelly voiced man observed.  
  
"She will not be much of a fighter now, unlike her sister," the other man remarked as he watched in anticipation what he planned for her. The other woman was dealt with, rather harshly, much to his disappointment.  
  
They continued towards her.  
  
The comfort to just lie on the ground was inviting, almost a release and she was close to giving up. She was tired and wanted to just sleep. Her eyes almost close...  
  
Don't sleep! A voice rang inside her head. It was loud and insistent. Get to your feet Anathea! She hastily scrambled to her feet and let out a cry as hot pain shot from her knees came. She had no time to see the wounds but she knew she had badly grazed her knees. The new wounds have affected her running, therefore reducing her to a skip and an occasional run. She was going to be captured for sure. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the men starting to run after her again.  
  
Anathea could almost hear the rasping voice of the men behind her. She just wanted to reach the forest before the men overtake her.  
  
"Please help! Someone help me!" She yelled as loudly as she could in between the sobs. The forest if I could just reach it. She thought. The tall trees were just before her. Please...let me live. She desperately prayed. The edge of the forest that she was trying to get to still looked so far away.  
  
Before she realized that she had reached the edge, the ground gave way under her feet and Anathea was sure, she was already plummeting to certain death. She let out a scream of horror, as the mistake was too overwhelming for the child to handle. Her arms flailed, seeking something to break her fall and instead thumped against a thick branch that grew on the side of the ravine. It seemed to have miraculously sprang out from nowhere.  
  
She screamed again as she frantically grasped the branch and soon found to be dangling from it with her small fingers digging on the limb like an anchor. The downward pull of the ground terrified her and yanked her eyes upward from looking at the stony ground below.  
  
In the forest, somewhere near the borders of the Ford of Bruinen, Elrohir, Elladan and Estel were following a path. Headed by Elrohir, the two elves were teaching Estel how to track a deer under the gathering dusk. Unfortunately, the task proved to be a feat for the human child.  
  
The boy of seven years, in the mortal people's time, squatted near the tracks made by the deer. To him, the loose soil, the plants, the bent twig, all look too ordinary for him to distinguish that the deer have indeed passed through the forest path and not made by some other animal.  
  
"I can't see it?" Estel shook his little brown-head as he stared at the ground before him. His voice was lined with frustration.  
  
"Then we will practice again until you know how to look for it," Elrohir calmly told his youngest brother with a smile tugging at his lips. He noticed Estel's frustration.  
  
"It seems that will take many, many nights of practice which could last most of Estel's lifetime," Elladan quipped and went tumbling into the forest floor as Estel tackled him. Soon laughter erupted from the two and Elrohir smiled to himself but shortly his relax features changed to a serious cast. He turned his head towards the ford.  
  
"Quiet!" He said in a commanding tone, which immediately made his brothers, swallow their laughter. Elladan quickly stood up and listened to the surroundings. He held onto to Estel, ready to leave the area if needed. Estel watched his brothers stand side by side, all their elven senses alert. He could not help watching them in awe and he always did as far as he could remember whenever the Elves find something amiss. He also tried to listen to the sounds that could be unfamiliar to the area but his young ears did not detect a threatening sound. Moments had passed and the still postures of his brothers were his only measure of their high alertness. Estel did not know for how long have they been standing but unfortunately, it made him fidgety that he stepped back and broke a twig in turn.  
  
The two Elven brothers looked at the boy in exasperation. "Little Estel, I do believe we will also need to teach you how to walk like an Elf." Elrohir spoke as he shot the little boy a stern look.  
  
"I'm sorry," Estel shrank behind Elladan as he noticed the glare. However, after a little while, he spared his other brother a glance and he saw that his features had softened into a small smile.  
  
"Come, we have stayed too long here," Elrohir said and urged his brothers to follow.  
  
"What was it you heard?" Elladan wanted to know as he kept Estel in between them. That way, either he or Elrohir can protect the boy and not worry if he lags behind.  
  
"A scream coming from the direction of the ford but I cannot be certain," Elrohir replied as they reached their horses. "I will find out what it is," he continued as Elladan mounted first and easily picked Estel up and sat him in front.  
  
"Take Estel home. I would like to check the Ford..." but he was cut off from what he was going to say next by Estel's remark as Elrohir mounted his own steed.  
  
"But I want to see too!" The boy interrupted him. "I won't be like what you want me to be or learn anything if you always send me home every time danger is near." Estel argued.  
  
Elladan arched an eyebrow and cast his brother a look that said the boy had a point. A sad yet puzzled frown came over Elrohir as he searched the boy's face. Long ago, when Estel was only three years old, their father had shared them a secret. About this human boy destined for greatness in Middle Earth. However, until such time reveals itself, Elrond deemed it was best to let the boy enjoy his childhood as much as he can. However, this also made the brothers very protective towards Estel all the time despite their father's premonition. Still, they made sure they did not lose sight of teaching him things few men would ever come to know.  
  
Nevertheless, it was still hard for the brothers' to deny Estel of things he needs to know in preparation for that revelation.  
  
"Very well," Elrohir conceded. "But," emphasizing the word. "You will stay close to Elladan at all times and follow his instructions." He said as he leveled Estel a gaze.  
  
The boy nodded while his face brightened. "I will." He affirmed. With that, the brothers rode to the direction of the Ford. 


	2. Stay with the Light

Chapter Two: Stay with the light  
  
"Can you get to her?" The gravelly voice man shouted at the other man who was on the branch inching his way to the girl.  
  
The girl screamed again. "Please somebody help me!"  
  
"There's no one to hear you, little flower." The man above her called out.  
  
"Leave me alone! I am not your little flower!" She spat as she tried to appear tough.  
  
The man wagged his head. "We can't leave you. Because if we do, that would cut our profits down." The man sneered.  
  
To the girl's horror, the added weight made the branch creaked dangerously. This also made the second man stopped his movements and waited for the branch to settle before resuming in reaching out for the girl.  
  
By the edge of the forest, Estel watched with difficulty, as the light over the area grew dimmer. He could hardly make out the dark figures standing on the edge of the shallow ravine yet it was still deep enough to cause injuries. His attention was then diverted to his right as his brother, Elrohir and his steed moved away from the protection of the thick foliage behind them. Upon the command from his owner, the horse stopped at the middle of the calm stream and waited the next command. Elladan had his bow out and an arrow notched ready for its release as he called out with authority.  
  
"Leave the girl alone! These borders are protected. You are not welcome here."  
  
The lead man huffed. "Pay no attention to him." He told his partner and instructed him to get the girl quickly so they will be off.  
  
Without warning, the man on the branch made a wild grab for the girl's wrist. This caught the girl in surprise as she was easily hoisted up. She wriggled from his vice-like grip but it was no use.  
  
"Quickly, throw the girl to me!" The gravelly man ordered as he positioned himself to catch the girl.  
  
However, before the second man could swing her, Anathea in desperation bit the man on the hand. What happened next was instantaneous and alarming.  
  
The man automatically released his hold of the girl in surprise. Unfortunately, it also led Anathea to realize that she wasn't able to grab hold of anything this time around in order to break her fall. She did manage to escape from certain thralldom but her action also cost her own life!  
  
Cold air rushed around her now and Time slow down. The feeling of heavy doom pressed down on her made every part of her body stiff. Panic did its best too, with its invisible hands; they have successfully frozen Anathea's arms for she could not reach out the branch again which a moment ago was her lifeline from certain death.  
  
Now, she could feel her eyes would pop out from their sockets as terror raced through her body. Another scream filled the area and for the next while, a faint sickening thud was heard. Elrohir witnessed the girl's fall to the ravine's stony ground and coldly released the arrow and it found its target. The man on the branch soon fell to the ground in a heap.  
  
The lead man shouted something in his language as he shook a fist in the air. His other men readied their arrows and targeted the intruding elf nearing the bank below. However, before they could release their arrows, they fell in their places with shafts sticking out of their chests.  
  
The gravelly voiced man squinted in the dimness and saw another elf emerging from the forest on the other side of the bank. He could not deny the unnerving sight the Elves have. With a growl, he left the edge, fearing for his life more but fuming. He put two fingers near his lips and a clear whistle came. Soon, a sound of hoof beats was heard and a lone horse arrived. The man mounted the gray stallion and they rode away from the edge.  
  
Elrohir knew who took care of the other three men and was grateful of the cover provided by his brother although he was certain that Elladan have been watchful all the time. Now, his attention was on the little girl who landed on the ground several feet away from him. His heart beat with urgency as he leaped from his horse the moment they reached the bank and rushed to the girl's side.  
  
His keen eye saw that she fell on a thick bed of pine needles and reasoned that it may have cushioned her in the fall. However, it also might not be enough.  
  
He gently turned her over and instantly saw a red line traveling from the corner of her mouth down to side of her chin. Blood. His heart went out immediately for the little girl and carefully made a cursory check for any broken bones on the girl's body. Both of her arms were intact although when his fingers were lightly pressing the side of her body, he noticed that the girl winced in pain in that region and it was tender to touch. Elrohir hazards a guess that there was a possibility that one of her ribs was broken.  
  
Ordinarily, a longer inspection is usually done to ascertain any more wounds but Elrohir had a bad feeling that if he stayed longer than necessary, he would surely lose the girl. He quickly made up his mind and started to scan the immediate area for a piece of wood to make a splint for her right ankle that have already appeared swollen. Other than that, there were not any more serious injuries, he could easily discern. Thank the Valar for little miracles. He thought. Still seeing blood coming from the girl's mouth worried him.  
  
Elladan was already beside the girl as he felt for her breathing.  
  
"It is very shallow," Elladan remarked as he passed a finger under her nostrils.  
  
His brother nodded in acknowledgement. "Elladan, hold her while I will set her ankle," Elrohir instructed. He had seen how his father treated Estel when the boy would come home with an injury after another. It was usually a result of their rough housing that it became a common incident at the house.  
  
The girl moaned as Elrohir completed the task and gently carried her to his waiting steed.  
  
Elladan helped his brother wrapped the sash around his body that would act as brace for the girl's limp form. They also folded the arms of the girl into the protective makeshift brace that will prevent the girl from being thrown forward during their journey home to Rivendell. With his one free hand, Elrohir held on the girl's head.  
  
A frown reflected both the twins' faces since they knew it was still a long way from home.  
  
"Let's go." Elrohir said trying to dismiss the foreboding feeling and the brothers galloped back into the protective embrace of the trees.  
  
After a few moments of travel, Elrohir was forced to slow down to a canter when the girl began to cough out blood and under his touch, he could feel the coldness creeping in her body. Another moan escaped her lips.  
  
"Stay with me, young one," Elrohir softly whispered to her ear in grey tongue.  
  
Elladan glanced back when he heard the galloping sounds of his brother's horse decreased. He found Elrohir navigating through the path for a smoother passage.  
  
Elrohir looked ahead of him and saw his brothers' concerned look.  
  
"I can not go any faster." He told them in a loud voice. "The child was coughing out blood."  
  
Elladan slowed his horse that fell in step beside his brother's steed. "Haste is still needed." Catching the deep concern reflected in his brother's eyes. However, before Elrohir could say that he was aware of the urgency. His older twin spoke again.  
  
"Give me your reins and I will be the guide. I believe it would be easier." Elladan said and caught the reins of his brother's horse when it was handed to him. With another hand free, Elrohir's attention was no longer divided which made it easier for him to concentrate in keeping the girl stable in the saddle amidst the movement of the horse.  
  
"Stay with the light, little one. Do not let go of the light." He urged still whispering closely to her ear in grey tongue when the coldness spiked under his touch once more.  
  
The response that came afterwards was almost imperceptible for a human to notice inescapable to an elf.  
  
"I...will...stay...with the...light," the young girl haltingly mumbled, her lips barely moving at all.  
  
The coldness seemed to ebb, her groans lessened and the distress in her breathing slowly disappeared, replaced by a faint rise and fall of her chest. The passage through the forest seemed to drag out more than usual but Elrohir noticed that they have made better time despite of it.  
  
Finally, the brothers' reached the gates of Rivendell and Elladan set Estel down so he could inform their father ahead of what happened.  
  
By the time they arrived at the main entrance of the house, their father was waiting with Estel by his side. Quickly, the brothers followed their father into a spare bedchamber that was hastily prepared for the girl. A servant was waiting inside to assist.  
  
"Leave us. I will see to her now." Elrond told them and the servant closed the door behind them. The brothers wanted to wait around but Estel was hungry so they all went to the kitchen to eat. They decided to return after eating their meals.  
  
The young girl's condition had not changed since the travel, Elrohir once said to him. So very young. Elrond thought as he checked the wounds received by the girl. She was pale and her eyes were unfocused. A servant removed the tattered and soiled clothes of the young girl and could not help eliciting a gasp.  
  
Elrond's frown deepened when he saw the girl's back was covered mostly with bruises just like her mid-section. His touch seasoned with centuries of the applying the healing arts, delicately probed the girl's chest and found two broken ribs. Fortunately, none had punctured a vital organ. After applying a special herb medicine to the immediate area in order for it to heal faster, he bandaged much across the girl's torso to set the bone. Later, he began attending her other bruises, cuts and scraped knees. Soon after the elf lord's administrations, the servant dressed her in a soft green gown.  
  
"Fetch more wood," Elrond instructed as he noticed the girl's lips tremble from the chill.  
  
The servant obeyed and left the room to get more wood to feed the chamber's fireplace.  
  
Elrond then moved to the foot of the bed to see the twisted ankle. He removed the splint, cleaned the cuts and applied another healing herb salve on the affected spot. He then set the ankle in the splint to keep it in place.  
  
He walked back to the head of bed and sat on the chair that was beside it. He laid a hand on her forehead and began stroking the girl's head. The action calmed the little girl and an easy sigh came.  
  
"Do not retreat from the light, child," Elrond whispered and saw a tear falling down from the side of the girl's cheek. He wiped the tear away with the back of his finger and spoke once more. "You are safe now. You can rest." He knew that the girl understood him and the frightened features fell away to show a very vulnerable child. He then fixed the blankets to keep her warm and continued stroking the girl's hair.  
  
The elf lord soon glanced up just as the servant re-entered the room carrying with her an armload of wood that she set to one side on the floor, near the fireplace. She fed one log into the kindling fire and new sparks danced at the new addition. Soon warmth radiated from it, spreading through out the room. He also saw his sons walking right behind the servant's heels and Elladan was about to speak when his father silenced him with a forefinger across his lips.  
  
Before leaving the room, Elrond spoke quietly to the servant and requested her that she stay with the young child and to make sure the young girl does not bother her bandages at all times. The servant nodded and finally Elrond left them.  
  
Elrond approached his sons who stood by a veranda near the room and they soon faced their father.  
  
"She will survive this ordeal," Elrond slowly began. " But I fear it will take long to overcome the nightmares," answering their unsaid question as he directly glanced at Estel.  
  
"What do you want me to do, Father?" The boy eagerly asked and sensed that he has a task for him.  
  
Placing his hand on the boy's head, he smiled. "I would like you to be her guardian for a while, Estel. Visit her all the time and if you can, stay with her as much as you can, that would be good to her." He said in an afterthought.  
  
"The strange surroundings may startle her and I am unsure if she has seen an Elf so close in her young life. You can become her bridge to healing and a strength regaining what she lost."  
  
"I can do that," Estel smiled. He slightly was puzzled at what his father meant by the last remark but he anyway, agreed.  
  
However, Lord Elrond feels a hidden threat and the person to get the answers from is trying to heal. 


	3. Chapter Three: Tracks

Chapter Three: Tracks  
  
The next day, upon the request of their father, Elladan, Elrohir and three more Rivendell elves have gone to scout the borders upon the ford. Their father wanted to know who were these men and what business brought them near Rivendell.  
  
The band of elves paused by the other side of the bank and saw the black vultures circling above the hill. They knew the wolves and these birds have already dealt with the bodies the previous night. They soon crossed the river and surveyed the opposite bank for clues as to the identities of the men. They have expected nothing so the other three elves rode up the hill leaving Elladan and Elrohir to study the remnant of the man's clothing on the ground that Elladan shot last night.  
  
"Elladan, Elrohir, up here!" Himandel called out from atop the edge and held up a bow for the twin brothers to see. The other elf found several other bows lying on the ground as well and wanted the brothers to see it. The two brothers quickly re-mounted their horses and were standing beside Himandel in moments. They also found out that the rest of their scouting party have rode away to search more signs that could reveal anything about the men's activity.  
  
"The workmanship is crude," observed Elladan when the bow was handed to him.  
  
"It seems to be made by the Easterlings," Elrohir remarked who was squatting near the bushes and held up a dagger. A chip of the blade in the middle made it looked as if something heavy struck it.  
  
"Aye, Easterling craft work," Himandel concurred as he and the brothers heard of approaching hoof beats and saw the other two members arriving. They walked up to meet the riders.  
  
Narquelion was the lead elf to arrive so he began his report. "We followed a horse track leading away from the edge but it veered away from a camp that was barely settled. Also, we saw five leagues away, some sort of caravan heading north...."  
  
"Show us this camp," Elladan urgently said, mindful that he broke mid-way through Narquelion's report. He held on the bow while Elrohir placed the dagger on the empty casing he found on the ground and tied it to his belt strap. Himandel gathered the other bows and strapped them to his saddle.  
  
Narquelion nodded as he and the rest of the party head out to the reported camp.  
  
The ride took fifteen minutes to reach from the edge on horseback, Elrohir noticed as he dismounted from his steed. The other Elves have also dismounted and were combing the camp for more clues. If this was the girl's camp and she started running here, she would be terribly exhausted by the time she reached the edge. Elrohir mused as he looked around at the barely settled camp. There were few utensils on the ground. Nail spikes had been dug in place waiting for the tents still on the ground to be pitch in. Narquelion held out one side of the tent flap for everyone to see the long slash running vertical from the top. The other Elves found a fork and two spoons half-buried in the ground. Bags were flattened out of shape, their contents arrayed in the ground as if someone went through them in search for something useful.  
  
Elladan knelt on the ground and pulled the half-buried fork from the soil. He found that its silver body was bent and that there was a design on the fork's base. He began to wipe away the soil that covered the design. It was a very small tree so finely etched that it would have taken someone with elven eyes or at least someone with acutely fine motor skills to depict the intricate drawing in one sure stroke. It clearly belonged to someone from the White City of Gondor!  
  
"Recognize this, brother?" Elladan asked as his voice went up a notch with concern as he handed the fork to Elrohir upon standing up.  
  
His brother turned sharply when he recognized the handiwork and glanced back at his twin with a grim expression. However, before he could express his concern, a whistle intruded and they had no choice but to the tuck away their respective thoughts for later discussion. They followed the origin of the sound that was coming from their right. Apparently, another member of the scouting party found something a little further away from the camp.  
  
"These," Himandel pointing on the ground when the rest of the scout party converged to his spot, "suggests that the horse was burdened with two riders." He noted the deep horseshoe impressions on the ground as they all stared at it.  
  
"Something happened to this horse," he continued walking along the prints as he closely studied them. His own footprints did not leave any marks on the ground that would further obliterate the evidence he was trying to read since the presence of other hoof prints was already becoming tricky.  
  
"From what I can tell, the horse reared," he said as he creased his forehead while he noticed small footprints leading away from the apparent 'melee.'  
  
"There was another rider who stopped the horse." Himandel paused. "A child ran away from the struggle." He squatted and sat on the balls of his feet while the others followed suit beside him.  
  
Setting his jaw in place, he continued. "I believe there was indeed a struggle," waving to the ground before them. "What happened to the other rider, I know not." Himandel finally ended with a waged his head in frustration and he stood up. Elladan put his hand on the other Elf's shoulder, saying that they have appreciated his insights.  
  
"It is enough." Elladan said since he came to the same conclusion. Although he would not have thought that there was a struggle, just as Himandel said, he was not going to rule it out all together. Elladan knew all their questions will be answered once the girl was strong enough to relate what happened to her. Everyone gathered back to their respective horses and started the ride back home.  
  
"Ada, will not like what we will report to him," Elrohir predicted when he rode up beside his brother towards Rivendell. Elladan merely give his brother a nod and grew pensive.  
  
Who were these men and what do they want with the girl? He pondered.  
  
When they have finally returned to the elven sanctuary, the twin brothers immediately went straight to their father's library.  
  
Elladan knocked before proceeding into the chamber to announce their arrival. They entered the room and found little Estel, hunched over a book. However, at that same moment they stepped in, they could tell from Estel's facial expression that they have shortly rescued him from the apparent mental exercises their father had in store for him that day.  
  
Elrohir could not stop himself from making a repartee. "What problem, are you studying this time, little Estel?" He asked as he tousled the boy's brown hair when leaned to look at the book the boy was studying. Standing behind him was Elladan watching with twinkling eyes filled with amusement.  
  
"It's not a problem," Estel reiterated while letting out a sigh. Elrohir's brows shot up in being corrected.  
  
"Father had me name all the herbs that I know and have seen this morning and I..." He bit his lip. "I failed." He quietly elaborated.  
  
"Now, now," Elladan began trying to bolster back Estel's confidence as he walked near the boy. "Do not be disheartened with your mistakes. You will get all of them in time and with practice, you will be able to identify the herbs even with your eyes close." He smiled affectionately at Estel. There were days that the boy was always in such a hurry to grow up.  
  
"Even Elrohir can not remember them too at his first try." He chuckled. Estel shot Elrohir a startled look.  
  
"That is true." Elrohir said while shooting his brother a slight weathering look at the last comment of him. His little mistake happened many, many, many years ago and although he eventually turned to be, one the best healers just like his twin brother later, he still particularly did not like how Elladan would come to announce about his one-time difficulty.  
  
Shifting his thoughts to the present, he continued, "Do not worry, you will become a great healer yourself one day." Elrohir added encouragingly and patted the boy's shoulder.  
  
Elrond glanced at his other son rather sharply than he intended and Elladan noticed it.  
  
Would his son know that considering the young boy's lineage, within him also bears the trait of a born healer? The Elf leader thought and continued to watch the exchange between the brothers.  
  
"Like father?" Estel was trying to brighten his gloomy day and sat straighter this time.  
  
Elrond let out a small hearty laughter. "If you want to be, then it will take more study and diligence on your part, Estel." Elrond fondly advised and for a briefest time, Estel caught the sadness in his father's eyes.  
  
Now, why would father be sad that I would soon become a good healer as he is? He asked himself but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.  
  
**********  
  
Several leagues away, a caravan was ready to break camp when a lone rider arrived. A swarthy looking man seated already on his brown steed eyed the approaching lone rider with one a suspicious glance.  
  
"You failed again?" The swarthy man said in a calculated monotone voice. He half-expected the sisters bound and walking behind his horse. Instead, he saw nothing.  
  
"Mayarlos," the rider started as he rode beside him. "It was n-ot my fa-ult." He stammered. "The Elves rescued her and took her to safety."  
  
"Bah, what kind of fool do you take me for!" The swarthy-looking man screeched.  
  
"I am not implying..." but the rider was cut off, not given a chance to explain at all.  
  
"Not only you have lost the older one," the swarthy man rumbled on. "But also you have lost the girl and my men!"  
  
The rider shrank. "But I did not loose the girl." He stubbornly put forth but was cut short again by Mayarlos.  
  
"I will have you answer to Novan, yourself!" Mayarlos bellowed and heeled his horse were the animal shot forward to join the other riders ahead.  
  
Enerion, a rider, cringed as he subconsciously touched his neck. Novan has been reputed to be an exacting slave driver and have taken a new preoccupation, which was the task of taking off one's head for those who cannot fulfill what was agreed upon as a price.  
  
He was doomed the moment he thought of re-joining the caravan. I shouldn't have returned at all. He chided himself. Enerion sullenly rode on his horse, going along with the caravan, no doubt on their way to meet with Novan. He had to think of a plan, to get out from this mess and not meet Novan's ax.  
  
By noon, the caravan made a stop to have a meal. The journey would take them three days to Novan's appointed place of operation and Mayarlos intended in getting his merchandize on time.  
  
Bounded by inter-locking chains and shackled feet, the prisoners were commanded out from their cages to eat their meal, while letting the horses graze at the small amount of green grass found to the caravans' right.  
  
When the prisoners were seated themselves on the ground, the end of the main chain was hammered down to the peg through the ground thus preventing anyone from trying to escape. If they tried, they would just be held back by the chain, which only provided only a few feet of leeway. Some resisted but not anymore. The travel made most of the prisoners weary, thirsty and submissive.  
  
From his position, which was at the back end of the caravan section, Enerion seated himself beside a wagon, securing whatever little shade it could provide from the noontime sun and gazed at their captives with indifference. He caught three pairs of eyes staring at him and in their eyes spoke of ill will they wanted to do to him.  
  
Enerion averted his eyes, not that he was afraid of them but he was more interested in finding the boy amidst the sea of dejected faces, the one that has to be alive in order for his plan to work.  
  
The little boy glanced up with frightened eyes when he caught sight of a man's boots beside him. The boy quickly stared down at his bowl of half rotten meat and stale bread. Hoping that if he did so, he could avoid the man's intentions for him and that he would go away. However, the man didn't go away. Fear tingled on the skin of the boy when the man knelt beside him. It made the boy tremble and began to dread the next words.  
  
"You will be adequate for my plan." He smiled evilly as the boy scampered away from him. A loud clunk came as he stumbled on the ground when the chains snapped his ankle. He gave a shout as the suddenness of the pull nearly took his leg off. He whimpered in pain as he looked back at the man who seemed to loom before him. The boy tried to ease the pain by drawing his leg closer to his chest. The chains served as a reminder of how limited his movement was.  
  
Suddenly, a cold biting sting under the metal clasp made the boy squirmed as the hot air found his exposed skin. He hissed under his breath as he tried to inspect what was causing it. He found that blisters had already formed on his ankle and it was too painful to bear. He cried as he lay down trying his best to squelch the soreness.  
  
Satisfied of bringing fear to the boy, Enerion then went to talk to Mayarlos one last time.  
  
Mayarlos glanced up; looking very irritated of having his meal disturbed.  
  
"What do you want?" He gruffly asked and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.  
  
"I'm going to search for the girl again but I will be needing that boy," pointing at the child who was now, sitting up again and staring at the distant plain from where they had trudged before.  
  
"What for?" He continued with his tone while chewing on the piece of meat he had.  
  
"For my plan," Enerion answered. "He knows the girl..." he was abruptly cut off.  
  
"I have given you a chance," he spoke menacingly at Enerion and at the same time threateningly waves the fork at him. "There are no more chances. Now, go back and eat your meal." He flatly ordered and went back to eat.  
  
Enerion bristled inside. He had to leave the slave caravan, somehow. To him, it was a death march back to Novan.  
  
Mayarlos chuckled as he gazed back at Enerion. He sensed the man's predicament. "Novan will be please to have you." The other nodded in affirmation as if with some imaginary friend. "It has been quite a while since his last beheading, oh...for about three fortnights."  
  
Enerion went pale.  
  
"If I were you," Mayarlos pointedly said aloud. "You should be re-thinking your excuses." Mayarlos told him and continued chuckling at the thought.  
  
The other man glared at him but soon moved away. He reclaimed his seat near the end of the caravan and started whetting his dagger. He has one agenda in his mind and that is, not loosing his head to Novan's ax.  
  
*************  
  
Easterlings near their borders and their apparent intrusion did not sit well with Elrond after hearing his sons' report. Messengers were sent out to other elf havens to inform and likewise gather news from their other brethren of this activity. He would be expecting their return from their duties abroad in two fortnights.  
  
The elf lord paced outside the courtyard lost in his thoughts. Could the enemy be moving his minions to seek out the Rivendell? He asked himself. No. That time has not come yet. He assured himself but continued to pace and this time his musings drifted to think about his sons'. They had left him a while ago to visit their young guest but he knew her condition has not changed since she was brought here yesterday.  
  
Elrond soon found staring back at the table where the weapons sat gathered by his sons' from their latest excursion. The weapons were a couple of crude looking bows and a dagger with a chip off blade and a couple of spoons and fork with the marks of the White City on its silver bodies.  
  
Normally, in battle, the Easterlings were gaudy but it seems that this group was engaged in a merely routine livelihood of some sort and were only equipped with bows and the standard use of the sword.  
  
In comparison, the weapons were absent of all grace and harmony that were very common in the crafts of Elves. For the Easterlings these were mere weapons and there was no need to bring beauty out from their works of war.  
  
The weapons were brought outside instead for he did not relish having the memories of their fallen kin mocked in receiving them into the heart of Imladris. He stood afar from the weapons as he mind recalled the dark tales of Nirnaeth Arnoediad.  
  
In addition to his sons' find, were the food utensils from the White City. A lone camp had fallen into ambush by the Easterlings? What was their purpose? Easterlings did not take prisoners unless it will serve them for ransom. Elrond continued to ponder. Soon, his train of thought was broken when a servant passed. The Elf lord beckoned him to his side and requested to have his chief captain of the guards summoned to the courtyard.  
  
The servant nodded and left the elf leader to fetch the captain. He did not have to wait long for Orthalen, Elrond's chief captain of the guards, walked briskly towards him.  
  
"Orthalen," Elrond greeted as the other elf bowed.  
  
"An errand my lord?" He inquired with a puzzled look on his face.  
  
"Nay," the elf leader answered and beckoned him to follow. Elrond led him to the table where the weapons lay.  
  
"My sons' with the scouting party went for a short excursion this morning to the direction of the ford," he said, "they found these strewn near the edge." He gestured at the weapons.  
  
"These are Easterling-made," Orthalen commented the obvious when he picked up the dagger. There was nothing much to inspect from it and returned it on the table. His attention soon came to rest on the fork with an engraved tree.  
  
Elrond nodded. "I would like you to increase the watch on all our borders and report anything amiss." The Elf lord instructed the chief.  
  
Orthalen nodded in understanding and bowed again. Before he left, he asked. "One of the Easterlings captives is from Gondor?"  
  
"Yes, I believe so and I think our guest is from the White City or has relatives living there." Elrond said but knew he was right.  
  
The other elf nodded as he took in the information. They spoke some more before Orthalen finally took his leave.  
  
Elrond soon turns around to the sound of low murmur heading towards his direction and receives Elladan, Elrohir and Estel.  
  
"And how is our guest?" He asked when his three sons joined him although he knew the answer beforehand.  
  
"She is sleeping," Estel answered and spied another look at the weapons on the table as he passed by but finally directed his gaze towards his father.  
  
"Do you know when she will wake up?" Estel asked.  
  
"No, I do not know, child. When her body has sufficiently healed, our guest will wake up. Do not worry." His father remarked after placing a hand on his youngest adopted son's head.  
  
"Father, about the weapons.... Elladan started. "I shall dispose of them now." He volunteered and picked up the weapons.  
  
"Thank you, Elladan." He replied and soon Elladan left them to complete the task. 


	4. Chapter Four: Signs of Healing

Chapter Four: Signs of healing  
  
Three days have passed when the girl began to show signs of waking up and looking a shade stronger than before.  
  
It started from the little movements here and there, a slow fluttering of her eyelids as her brown eyes sought to re-focus on him. Estel tilted his head to the right so he could cover the gentle sunlight shining on the girl's face at that moment. A rustle of leaves from behind signaled the coming of a strong breeze, which shifted the leaves letting more sunlight into the room.  
  
Soon, the branches settled to its former place permitting the thick leaves to cast again a shade back into the room. The boy continued to observe as the telltale signs of the girl's wakefulness began to surface.  
  
He stared into her still glazed eyes and wondered what stories she might have, what places she had visited and more importantly of what lays beyond the protected realm of Imladris. A smile crept on his face while those thoughts played in his mind. It piqued his curiosity further and was looking forward in getting to know her. He leaned on the bed causing more movements to rouse the girl.  
  
Estel has been keeping vigil since the day she was rescued. Unfortunately, the girl was still listless most of the time he was visiting her.  
  
Often times, his father would come to the room and the elf lord would routinely check her bandages and her healing wounds. Fortunately, most of the bruises and gashes responded well to the medicine his father applied and only a few deep cuts need repeated attention now. The bruises on her arms and legs have left only a reddish imprint and Estel knew, another three more days with steady application of the herbal medicine, it will all be gone.  
  
The girl moaned that previous day when the elf lord inspected her bandaged torso and chest but Estel knew as he watched his father, he could tell from his expression that the girl was out of danger and was recovering.  
  
A servant would come to her room every day to bring a cup of broth to help her drink since she could not hold solid food yet and right after her every soup meal the girl would instantly fall asleep. No doubt, the soup was laced with a sleeping herbal concoction to hasten the girl's healing. Their guest remained in bed since the day she was taken into the House of Elrond for care.  
  
However, today, he knew it was going to change. Estel now had a feeling of expectancy while watching their recuperating guest. Color has started to paint her normally pallid features and she seemed to be more reactive to the sounds she was hearing.  
  
Her eyelids close again while a low moan followed when she shifted under the covers. Estel brow furrowed a little with concern. He tentatively placed his hand on the girl's forearm.  
  
Anathea felt nauseous and her throat was dry. She didn't want to move. Every part of her body ached from numerous unseen injuries that she must have received from ... where? Her mind asked. Where am I? The question came filtering through her consciousness.  
  
She wanted to open her eyes but she was afraid that the men have captured her and they have placed her in some dungeon to rot. But wait... She sniffed the air. This isn't the smell of a filthy dungeon. She thought. There was a scent of rosemary lingering in the room and she waited a little longer as her still reeling senses gave her more clues as to where she might be, right now. She settled deeply and listened to the chirping birds that were coming from her right. Birds! Yes, it was what she was hearing all right. She inhaled deeply when another breeze swept into the room. It also carried the bird melodies into the bedchamber. She lay motionless for a while savoring the calmness that reached out to her even with her eyes close, she felt it touched her.  
  
Her mind told her that she was laying in a bed, wrapped with something smooth about her body-an eiderdown. Slowly, as if taking a chance, she opened her eyes and squinted at something. No, that wasn't right. Someone, someone was with her too. She told herself and blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the level of light coming into the airy chamber.  
  
Estel could see her face go taut as she stiffly moved her head on the pillow.  
  
When Anathea's vision came back to normal, a face of a boy filled her sight, standing in front of her. He was staring at her with curiosity.  
  
The boy stood straighter. "Welcome back to the living." The boy greeted as he gave her a warm smile. He withdrew his hand that was on her arm. "How are you feeling?" He inquired.  
  
Anathea didn't answer at once but continued to stare at him as if he was a dream. She glanced at the sheets that wrapped her little body and saw her own fingers wiggled on the softness of the blanket. The sheets were made of the smoothest material that she never felt before in her young life. It was far smoothest what her sister would make... She stopped. She swallowed the lump building inside her throat and sighed. She didn't want to cry so she held it down but her lips did quaver while stopping the tears from falling. She faced the boy again who was still holding that smile for her.  
  
"What is it?" Tthe boy asked as he saw the bemused expression written on her face.  
  
Anathea pushed herself up on the elbows and opened her mouth but a squeak came out. She swallowed and tried again to speak up.  
  
"Water?" The girl asked in rasp voice.  
  
"I'll get you a cup of water to drink," he offered and went to the pitcher of water set on the other bed table at the middle of the room. Anathea followed him with her eyes and was easily distracted by the things she found in the room. Ornate furniture was placed in essential portions inside the room. They looked very otherworldly and rare. Her gaze then traveled on the spirals that adorned the walls and archways. It seemed to be a dominant design in the room. Then something else caught her attention. Off to a small wall near where the archway opened to the veranda, she noticed a phoenix in form of a relief. It was crowned under intertwined wooden vines. The design looked unusual yet beautiful on its own. After a moment of staring at it, her eyes took hold of the bedchamber she was in again. She has not seen a room so beautifully made, ever in her life. Was she...dead? Is this the afterlife her father told her about? But, wait...the boy said; 'welcome back to the living.' she thought. Her musings were left alone as she continued to let her gaze roam around the airy chamber and could not help noticing a female statue so gracefully made standing at the head of her bed. Her arms spread out, it appeared to be watching over, beholding her. She sank back deeper in her pillows when her shoulders grew tired and a back pain made her lie down. Her eyes followed the graceful contours on the statue's face as the boy returned. He brought with him a cup filled with water just as he promised. She started to sit up.  
  
At her bedside, Estel could see that the girl was having a difficult time sitting up on her own. He was also worried after hearing a groan escaped her lips that she appeared exhausted from the simple task of sitting up.  
  
"Careful," he said and set aside the cup on the bedside table so that he could help her sit up. The pained expression on the girl's face disappeared and gratefully took the cup offered by the boy. The cool soothing liquid coursed through her dried throat. She also noticed for the first time that her lips had some sort of balm on them.  
  
"I will go and get my father," the boy remarked and was about to leave her side when she stopped him.  
  
"I'm not dead?" The tone was filled with sudden terror that made Estel pause in his steps.  
  
"No, you are very much alive. Lord Elrond, my father healed you from your wounds. You don't need to be afraid," trying to ease the girl's fears.  
  
"The men will not be coming here. Imladris is a protected area." He spoke with pride about his home.  
  
"Im-la-dris?" The girl slowly worded out.  
  
"That's right," the boy nodded. "Or Rivendell in the common tongue." He supplied. "I'll be back," he told her and left the room.  
  
"I have never heard of this place," she muttered to no one as she gazed around the room again. She watched the tree standing near the veranda. The soft sunlight danced on the leaves still covered with dew. When the breeze rustled it again, the dew seemed to leap out from the leaves and twinkled for a short time, caught in the sunlight's path before disappearing in thin air. Her gaze returned to the other leaves, which were still moist with dew. She watched the leaves becoming like tiny pinpricks of light. Following the gentle swaying of the leaves started to lull her back to sleep. She nestled deeper in the soft pillows. Next, her eyes caught sight of a bird flying into the room. It perched itself on the chair near the bed and Anathea smiled as she stared at the tiny creature, watching back at her.  
  
"You are not afraid," she observed. The bird started to chirp in singsong notes as if in answer to her that it was not. It tilted its little head regarding her.  
  
"Was that a... no?" The girl asked and looked closely at the bird. To her, it looked like a thrush. However, she has seen so few of them and never thought there would be any living at this time.  
  
The thrush chirped again and this time surprised her by flying nearer to her and landed in front of her. The bird bopped up and down the motion when it sat on her stomach.  
  
Anathea giggled but later coughed when searing pains from her chest almost left her half conscious and was frightened from what she was experiencing. She stared at the ceiling, willing to make the pain that was still on her chest to disappear. Moments later, she looked at the bird. "I'm fine, I think." Her voice breaks in uncertainty. Another moment of silence passed before she spoke up. "I wish I can touch you, but my arms still hurt." She told her new-feathered friend.  
  
The bird chirped the longest at her before flying away.  
  
"Please don't go," she trailed, as the bird flew out of the chamber. "Come back." She called again, her voice this time was soft. However, the bird did not return.  
  
A few more minutes passed before a knock sounded through the room. The girl turned to the direction of the door and was not prepared to see the approaching forms. She gasped.  
  
Her first instinct was to cower deeper into her bed if it was possible but it was not the case. She hardly had enough strength even sit up as it is. Wriggling under the covers made her pant and another bout of pain erupted from within her body. She nearly cried out in pain though her eyes started to glisten. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged puzzled frowns on their faces as they walked into their guest's room. They could easily see the uncomfortable expression on the girl's face. Elrond too, noticed it yet he remained calm.  
  
Estel, with his hand on his father seemed to be practically dragging the elf lord as he strode towards the bed.  
  
Now it was Estel's turned to look puzzled when he caught the frightened expression of the girl.  
  
"They are not going to harm you," he said in the start of his explanation. "This is my father Master Elrond and my brothers. Elladan and Elrohir." He introduced. "And I am Estel." He finally said and flops at the middle of the bed.  
  
The girl flinches at the bounce from the boy's sudden movement shifted her again in her bed.  
  
"Estel, be careful," Elrond admonishes upon seeing the pained expression of the girl.  
  
The boy stared at his hands with a slight bow of the head. "I'm sorry. I will try not to be too rough." He looked slightly embarrassed at their guest.  
  
The girl's eyes lighted from one face to another after the introduction. "Your father?" She softly asked though in a way as if she didn't believe him.  
  
"That's right." Estel answered her and knew what she was going to say next.  
  
"But you don't look like them," continuing in a soft tone unaware that the Elves have very sharp hearing.  
  
"I am adopted." Estel said and was not offended by the comment. It was expected and retained his smile when he faced her again.  
  
Elrond came to the side of her bed now and looked down at his young charge. Anathea stared at the ageless eyes that inquiringly gazed down at her. She let her gaze fell on the other Elves who were standing by the foot of her bed. Something from her childhood was slowly surfacing to her consciousness. It was story of some kind, and then she remembered.  
  
"You are an elf," the girl said it more of a realization than a question.  
  
"Yes, child, we are," answered the elf lord as he smiled. He could detect the girl's hesitation. "What is your name?"  
  
"Anathea," she responded while she nervously playing at the sheets.  
  
"And your parents?" He asked trying to continue the conversation.  
  
"My father, Armalos and my mother, Molivnia." She finally supplied. She lowered her gaze and looked forlorn when another lump began to start.  
  
"Don't cry anymore, Anathea. No one's going to harm you," Estel said hoping to ease her.  
  
Elrond reached out to touch the girl on her forehead. They all waited for her to calm down and when she finally did, she asked. "How did I get here?"  
  
"We traveled by horseback. My brother, Elrohir," Elladan started while gesturing to his brother, "heard a scream by the Ford of Bruinen. We all went to see what was going on when we saw you dangling from the tree branch."  
  
"They were after me," Anathea recalled in a hushed tone. She was afraid that if she said it any louder, the men would assuredly know where she was. Elrond recognized the irrational fear in her voice that he continued stroking her head. The girl turned to look at him. It was as if the little child was trying to draw security from the elf lord. Elrond knew he would gladly give it to the girl.  
  
"I...I fell over..." She abruptly stopped and looked away while her hands tightened into two small balls of fists. The bad memories churned inside her mind and she did not like it.  
  
The twin brothers bobbed their heads in confirmation and looked very torn. "But with the skills of our father, you are on your way to healing." Elladan remarked as he clearly tried to sidestep the painful memory for the child.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Elrond gently asked. His voice was like a breeze capable of surrounding her very being, penetrating it until the depths of her soul that was hiding from the scrutiny. Yet, his gaze was not harsh or forceful. She wanted to follow him out from her hiding place. She wanted very much but something was holding her back.  
  
Elrond was aware that if he could lead the girl out from her shell of distrust, by telling them what happened, it would help relieved the burden that he was sure has started burying itself into the child's soul. He knew by experience that human children have fragile constitution whether in body or in mind compared to an elfling.  
  
"Do remember what happened to you?" Elrond asked while keeping his tone gentle and warm. His hand never ceased stroking the girl's head for the action always calmed the girl. Anathea nodded in assent as her brows furrowed as she recalled the things that happened.  
  
"We were heading for Gondor since my father received news from his brother that he has work waiting for him at his own smith shop. My father has been a smithy all his life and wanted so much to learn the crafts of the great masters in the White City." Her tone changed, to one that was filled with new promises and her eyes glittered with excitement.  
  
"When my uncle told him such news, it was something my father cannot pass up. So, he packed the family together. My older sister and younger brother went with us. We traveled with other the families heading for Rohan. Father decided that it was best to join them, than travel on our own when evil things roam on the lands." She related.  
  
"A wise decision your father made." Elrond remarked.  
  
Anathea paused and glanced at the elf lord as she slightly nodded and went on with her tale while they listened.  
  
"It had been many nights were our travel was uninterrupted until that night." She looked away again and stared at the intricate wood relief design of a phoenix that adorned the opposite wall of the chamber.  
  
"Father decided to give more rest on the horses and us, especially to Movlen, my brother. He was running a slight fever after having been thrown into the stream by the other boys in the traveling group we rode out with, the day before that. So, mother and father started to make camp while Movlen lay nearby. We were separated from the main group since they decided to press on without us." She related as her voice rose to a pitch higher as if it was a mark for the listeners that the horrifying incident was about to come.  
  
"My sister decided to take a ride and I wanted to go along with her. So with expressed promises that we will return before dusk, our father relented. We have not been riding out long when from behind the trees, five riders came after us!"  
  
Elrond, who had taken a sit on the chair beside the bed, felt Anathea's little hand tightened inside his own. The girl looked down when he gave her a reassuring squeeze.  
  
"They chased us down hard, away from where we first came," Anathea continued her tale. Her breath starting to turn ragged. "Norleana, my sister," the girl furnished upon seeing Estel's inquiring look. "Decided that we would just back track to the camp when it was safe to return so we rode on. I don't know where we were going until we stumbled into a camp that lay ahead of us. We shortly stopped to call for help instead, we saw the tents slashed on both sides, bags strewn everywhere and we could not find any one inside. We stayed too long which proved to be wrong." Anathea stopped as her lower lip trembled.  
  
"Do you want to stop?" Elrond asked, concerned in his voice when the girl paused.  
  
The girl seemed to consider it but shook her head. She felt drawn to tell them her story.  
  
"Something hit us. It was a while before I realized that a man jumped behind us. I do not know how he was able to do it." Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.  
  
"I was thrown off from the horse. I heard shouts from the men. My sister...they took my sister but she did something...I no longer heard her after the shouts." Anathea's voice turned to quiet panic.  
  
Elrond held her little hand and maintained a reassuring presence to the girl as he saw her eyes grow wild and glisten.  
  
"I kept running because that's what she told me to do. I didn't look back either." She peered at the faces before her as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. Elrond began to wipe off the tears off the girl's face. Anathea searched the faces before her for confirmation of the dreaded thought that was haunting her mind. Hoping for a different answer from her kind hosts, she asked.  
  
"Was my sister any where near...?" She let her question trail and stared at Elrond and his sons for their answers.  
  
Elladan shook his head. "We found nothing, Anathea. But that does not mean, she is..." searching for a right word as not to stun the girl.  
  
"Dead?" Anathea muttered looking very dejected, alone and vulnerable.  
  
Estel flinched from where his sitting as he heard the word. He didn't expect he would react so strongly from it. He caught his father looking at him with concerned eyes. From behind, Elladan and Elrohir have already moved closer during the girl's story and have placed their hands on Estel's shoulders. The boy involuntarily let out a sigh. He knew what it was like to lose ones parents.  
  
"I would not put it so directly," Elladan uncomfortably said.  
  
The little girl deeply sighed as her tears fell again. "They are gone." She muttered repeatedly and a sob escaped as her turned sideways.  
  
The elven brothers stood distraught but when their father motioned them to leave the chamber, they obeyed. It was enough for now, so Elladan and Elrohir led Estel out of the room. Elrohir glanced back as he saw his father trying to soothe the girl.  
  
"Sleep now. May Elbereth Gilthoniel shine ever on your path as long as you live, Anathea." He kissed the girl on the forehead and stayed with her until all the sobs were gone and soon sleep completely overtaken her. 


	5. Chapter Five:Out of sight,out of hope

Chapter Five: Out of sight and out of hope  
  
Novan's practiced eyes scanned the faces before him with deadly intensity at the almost three-dozen captives standing inside his big depository tent. He nodded in pleasure of his biggest catch ever. He was astounded that there were still people having the gall to traverse these plains all by themselves. He let out a haughty laugh. He was very pleased indeed.  
  
His eyes then shifted to his right as a new comer came in.  
  
"Ah, Mayarlos." He began to walk towards the identified man entering his big tent not sparing a glance at the other man who came with him.  
  
"I did not expect you to be arriving so soon." He told him in a surprise tone.  
  
"Business has been good and I want to be here early." Mayarlos replied with zest as he surveyed the new captives inside the tent. "I couldn't put it off too long." Mayarlos barely hid the greedy tone after seeing Thamin's catch today. "But," he faced Novan; "my traveling companion has some news of his own." He said and chuckled to see the Enerion's pending misfortune.  
  
"Is that so. It can wait." Novan remarked and continued. "You are right. Business has been good indeed." The man said in agreement with Mayarlos.  
  
"Why, Thamin will be bringing a hefty pouch for these fine additions," sweeping his arm towards the new captives.  
  
"These are his?" Mayarlos said while arching a brow in amazement, falsely expressing his surprise.  
  
"Quite," Novan remarked. "And what do you have for me?" elbowing the other man in some jest. Mayarlos started to worry and look slightly uncomfortable all of the sudden. Novan was in great spirits and looked non- threatening now. Still, he was uneasy that it might be his last in doing business with him had not Enerion misjudged the sisters' fiery spirits.  
  
"Alas, my catch is not as many as Thamin but they are 20 heads that I have counted." Mayarlos replied.  
  
"20 heads is not bad, Mayarlos," Novan said in a thoughtful tone, already his mind pondered were Nimros - the dark man from the North would use the prisoners for. Not a day would pass that he had standing order from the dark man. Nimros was his constant buyer and Novan could not help but be curious at what hard work of thralldom he would subject these poor souls for the rest of their miserable lives. Soon, he dismissed the thought, signaled another man to follow them, and together strode out of the tent to inspect Mayarlos cargo.  
  
The four men proceeded into another tent were Mayarlos had brought the captives in.  
  
Novan scanned the bowed heads of the captives while few gave him glares laced with their secret hatred on him. Nevertheless, he continued selecting the captives and appeared unaffected by the captives' abhorrence.  
  
He perused them with cold efficiency, pulled one captive after another from the despicable queue, and designated him or her to a prospecting buyer.  
  
"They are many children here, Mayarlos," commented Novan as he came to the latter portion of the collected prisoners. Separated from their parents, the children huddled together in fear. It was a decision made by their captors they should they become embolden and do something they will regret. The sounds of whimpering were distinct now coming from the two children standing closer together at one corner in deep fright.  
  
"Please..." pleaded a mother who came forward from the line. She was roughly pushed back into the queue by a watcher.  
  
"Spare them, please." She begged without skipping a beat as she looked over her two children crying together. "They are only ones I have left of their father." The mother continued.  
  
"Please do not take them," the woman bit back the tears as she tried to steady her voice.  
  
Novan suddenly lunged towards the mother. His face just mere inches from the woman's face now, a cruel smile curled at the corner of his lips. The woman turned away from the vileness of the man.  
  
"You do not hold your tongue, eh, woman?" He remarked. He raises his hand as if to strike but stops and eyes wickedly at the man standing beside the woman. He could easily tell that this man was about to strangle him if not held by his guards.  
  
"So, you think you can protect this woman!" Novan spat clearly turning his ire at the man.  
  
The young man in his late 20's with black hair stared back at him with cold coal-black eyes. His lips drew to a fine line as he held much of his anger in check. Antagonizing the slave trader now will not do him, his sister and his nephews any good if he is killed on the spot. He kept his tongue and prayed the man not to lay a hand on his sister.  
  
"Very well, we will keep your children." The man leered back at the woman after a moment's thought. Novan turned at his heel as he spoke with his duty-keeper. With a nod, the stout duty-keeper herded the prisoners consisted mostly of young adults and children outside the tent. Various protests rang inside the tent as the two children began to cry louder.  
  
"No!" came the strangled shout of one woman who looked at her daughter.  
  
"Where are you taking them?" All the mothers in the group asked in unison as they watched helplessly at their children being led away. Soon a crack of whip snapped and the remaining captive men in the group desisted in attempting to overpower the slave watchers who held them against their will.  
  
"Quiet!" Novan's voice was rock-solid and stared hotly at the group. "Be grateful that I do not send your children to the coal pits!"  
  
He turned to his duty-keeper. "Finish everything here and proceed to the other tents." Novan ordered as he strode out of the tent, with Mayarlos trailing behind him. Unknown to them, Enerion stayed behind.  
  
The other man mumbled compliance and signaled the rest of the prisoners out of the tent to be sent to their prospective buyers. He was about to leave the empty tent when he caught a movement at the far corner of the tent.  
  
"Well...well... what do we have here?" The duty-keeper muttered in surprise as he looked down at the boy who was keeping close to the shadows.  
  
"Mayarlos has missed his head count. He has 21 of you today." He roughly pulled the boy up but he did not get very far for something struck him from behind.  
  
The boy landed back on the ground in a heap, as he had no strength to stand on his own feet. He turned his head upwards and faced the man that was standing in front him.  
  
"Squeal or so help me, I will drive this very dagger into you." Enerion spat under his breath.  
  
The boy glanced at the blade that gleamed under the low light inside the tent as the man grabbed him on the arms and strode near the entrance of the tent. He turned to look at the body of the duty officer lying on the ground, unmoving.  
  
Enerion peered out at the entrance of the tent and surveyed his surroundings. Novan and Mayarlos were nowhere in sight and his horse was only a hundred yards from where they were. Novan's men were all preoccupied with transporting the captives to the other towns to give him any trouble. During his very brief stay at Novan's temporary base of operation, he was able to gather information that he might need later. He got part of the word that Nimros is Novan's best buyer and needs the most slaves.  
  
He shook the boy hard as he looked down at him. "Listen to me, boy," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do not think for a moment that I am rescuing you for whatever fate Novan had in store for you. But for now, I see you to be more of a profit to me than to him. If I hear anything from you, I will leave you for these wolves to pick on." He threatened and hardened his grip on the boy's arm that it made him burst to tears.  
  
Enerion readied and soon half-carried the boy out of the tent and briskly walked to his horse. He kept an eye for anyone who could be looking at his way and prepared his dagger that he kept loose beside him.  
  
They reached the horse with no other incidents but Enerion knew he was not free yet. He had to leave the enclosure soon. He quickly mounted his horse and set the boy behind him. The boy clung to the back of the man so hard that Enerion had to gasp for a breath. He was mildly surprised by the boy's grip but dared no more making untoward sounds upon them. Enerion clucked his tongue against the palate of his mouth and the horse took the command to canter slowly forward.  
  
The boy looked back and began searching for the face that held him throughout the journey while he was feverish.  
  
"Remember, boy. Keep your tongue." Enerion reminded and guided his horse to the nearby woods.  
  
One of the mother's whose sons' were carted off to wherever town they would be sold, was the only witness in the escape of the boy whom she only met five days ago. She prayed for the safety of that boy and her children and hope one-day she would be reunited with them and he with his own family wherever they would be. She raised a hand for what she thought would pass as a wave while keeping her musings to herself, drawing neither attention to her or to the boy on the horseback with the man, she recognized as Enerion.  
  
Inside another tent, "and here's your own payment, Mayarlos." Novan said giving him a heavy pouch of gold coins.  
  
"Thank you, Novan," Mayarlos greedily said as he peeks into the pouch and his desire to the count the coins almost overcome him but decided to count it later. Not in front of Novan, that is.  
  
"Now, what was it you want to tell me about?" Novan asked when he had completed his circuit of tents in the compound they temporarily set up. Wagons full of new slaves were wheeled away to different directions and he again turned to his companion.  
  
"Well?" he pointedly prompted Mayarlos to speak up.  
  
"One of my men, Enerion had something to tell you but I do not know what it is." Mayarlos lied.  
  
"I think not, Mayarlos!" Novan's voice changed to a sinister tone. "I have not seen any of my men." His steely glare was soon directed at him.  
  
When Mayarlos continued to act innocent, Novan stood at his full height that made the other man stepped back in fear. "The four men that I obligingly sent you because you always complained of bandits on the plains, what happened to them, Mayarlos?" He ended and watched the man carefully.  
  
Mayarlos suddenly fell backwards when his foot caught on a rope tied to the peg holding one side of the tent upright. He did not make any moves on getting up on his feet though.  
  
"Have they deserted you?" Novan baited.  
  
"Yes, yes, they have deserted me," Nodding emphatically at Novan. Mayarlos was so afraid that he would say anything and now that he clearly lied, it only doubled his fears.  
  
"You lie." Novan pressed on as he stressed the two words. He could easily see from Mayarlos eyes that he was lying to him.  
  
"They were four of my sister-sons that you killed!" growled the man. "For that you will pay with your life!" Novan, the executioner now passed judgment.  
  
"No...no... It was not I, Novan!" Mayarlos frantically pleaded as he scrambled to his feet. "The Elves...Enerion said they were shot by the elves who went to rescue the girl."  
  
"Foolish man," Novan huffed as he ordered one of his men to tie Mayarlos hands behind his back. Novan then reached into the man's pocket and took the pouch.  
  
"I believe you will not be spending this now," He wickedly said.  
  
Mayarlos went paler than usual and he was sent away.  
  
"Novan, please. I'm telling you the truth!" Mayarlos shouted as he was dragged away.  
  
"Search for Enerion," ordered Novan to one of his henchmen standing nearby. The man nodded and immediately went out calling eight more of his men to look for the missing man.  
  
"Although I doubt Enerion will still be here," he mused under his breath. Again, his pitted face took a thoughtful frown. Nimros will be interested with this news of Elves still living in this time. He thought and walked away.  
  
After a couple of hours, the man who Novan ordered to look for Enerion came back.  
  
"We've searched the area but Enerion's nowhere in sight. Should we follow the tracks?" The man half-heartedly suggested.  
  
Novan noticed the tone of the man and he knew that with numerous tracks leading out from the compound, it would be a waste of their time to follow all of them until the end.  
  
"No," Novan answered. "That will be enough." He dismissed him with a wave of his hand and soon his men began disassembling their tents. His slave operation has to move out by late afternoon before any unwanted traveler may take notice and alarm the neighboring towns strong enough to thwart them. He passed by a wagon filled with new thralls for Nimros.  
  
"Where are you taking us!" demanded a man inside the cage.  
  
Novan scoffed as he took a moment to look at the man. "You will be taken to Nimros on the northern plains. From there, I do not know." He walked away.  
  
The captives looked at each other helplessly.  
  
"My children, I will never see them," a woman mumbled in tears as she leaned on her brother for support.  
  
"No, Avalenne," began the man with black hair. "We will see Maven and Malavin again. I promise you that." He steely vowed to his sister and embraced her when sobs started to arise from her. The wagon they were in soon started to wheel away.  
  
~*****~  
  
Somewhere in an already darkened plain and thinking they had placed a considerable distance by steadily riding out well past in the afternoon, the rider and the boy finally stopped in their journey. The man unhitched the horse to let it graze at the nearby patches of grass and made a camp near a cluster of boulders that acted as a good shelter for the night. In his estimate, they have traveled almost a league and a half away from Novan's camp. Still, he made sure to stay away from the usual routes of the slave traders.  
  
The boy squeezed his eyes shot as the tears fall down his little cheeks. He did not understand what was going on. He wanted to stop the bad dream. Why was it coming back again... and again?  
  
The dream opens...  
  
~~~ His father was warding off the men with his sword while his mother in pure haste strapped something around his waist and soon unsheathed a short sword of her own in order to protect him from the men on horseback. They laughed at her, taunted her, and gave her lewd expressions of their lust for her. Sounds of metal clashing came to his right and he swiveled his head to see what was happening. He saw his father engaged in a sword fight with two men! His father successfully dispatched them with ease and readied himself to meet the next one. A laugh distracted Movlen. It was close to him that he screamed in fright. His fevered body could not make a move to protect himself but the man ceased any sound when his mother drove her short sword to the man's side. With a yell, another man came down on his mother; he warned her just time and saw her wounding him on the chest when he made a lunge for her. Then someone clamped a hand over his mouth! He could not scream another warning to his mother. For another man was behind her and slowly advancing towards her. A muffled scream erupted within him as he body wriggled hard on the ground. He watched helplessly in horror as his mother was struck from behind. His father, hearing the scream of his wife, was suddenly caught off guard. He ran immediately towards the man who slew his wife. They fought intensely, but the boy saw that the man had advance skills. He deftly parried the sword strikes coming from his father and soon the other man struck him in the mid-section thus mortally killing him as well. It was after that time when the hand was released from his mouth. However, strangely enough, there was no sound coming from his mouth now. He stared blankly at the lifeless bodies of his parents as the remaining men carried him off.  
  
"The boy does not speak, Reckan. We should have left him," called out the man who was responsible in silencing with his hand over the boy's mouth.  
  
"Never mind. Let Mayarlos decide what to do with him," the man named Reckan decided. ~~~  
  
The dream ends.  
  
The boy thrashed around the ground, making Enerion pause from his eating and knelt beside the once sleeping form of the boy. He shook child and realized he was struggling with his eyes close.  
  
"Boy!" He yelled at the child who suddenly opened his eyes and were as big as dinner plates as he tried to take in the shift of scenes.  
  
"You are having a bad dream! Wake up!" He shook the child again.  
  
The boy repeatedly heaved several breaths and began to look around. It was a dream, only a dream. He said inside his head. It was dark and he could not see a light anywhere except from the stars above and their small campfire. He looked upwards again and watched the little lights blinked away.  
  
Enerion studied the strange child and could see from the dim light of their campfire that whatever he was dreaming about; it was gone and he has started to settle down. Enerion laid the boy back on the ground but kept a watchful eye on him. He went back to his seat and continued eating his dinner.  
  
"You should eat," he said a little later, pointing at the plate he prepared for the boy. "It's cooked rabbit. Not like what Mayarlos has been feeding you." He told the child. The boy rolled to one side as he looked at the plate before him. He slowly sat up as the aroma of the food, tingled his nose and a sharp pang of hunger etched inside his gut. He reached for the small plate and began to nibble on his food.  
  
Enerion suspiciously eyed the boy. He had not heard anything out from the boy during their travel besides a whimper. He began to wonder about the child if he could actually speak at all. The silence hangs over them while the older man tries to understand his mute companion who was busy eating his food across the campfire. He had already finished his meal and had sat back when the boy finished his plate and drank from the cup. His little fingers wrapped itself on the crude looking water container.  
  
"What is your name, boy?" Enerion asked aloud and didn't expect any answer.  
  
The boy stared mutely at the man, his eyes devoid of a feeling.  
  
"You do not have a name?" Enerion asked almost in a mocking tone.  
  
"Let me name you, Lebolen. After my younger brother." He decided. "He was killed while sacking a town somewhere in the east." He nonchalantly related. "He would be fine raider now," he said and glanced at the boy who merely stared back at him.  
  
"So Lebolen, pick up that plate and cup. Have them cleaned and packed in the bags," pointing at his saddlebag that was beside the boy.  
  
When the boy turned and glanced at the saddlebag, Enerion sat a little straighter. "At least your hearing has not diminished." He observed. He leaned back and watched what the boy would actually do.  
  
After a while the boy stood up taking the plate and cup with him, Enerion tensed. He had thoughts the boy would make a bolt out from the campsite any moment. However, the boy, did not do such a thing. Instead, the boy poured a small amount of water into his cup, plate, and washed it as much as he could and returned the utensils back to the bag.  
  
The boy went back to where he used to lie down and stared at the night sky wondering if he will ever see his sisters again. Soon, he began to whimper as the memories of his parents came to his mind.  
  
Enerion sighed it was going to be a long night for them. 


	6. Chapter Six: The Escape

Chapter Six: The Escape  
  
The two caravans moved on determined pace along the rocky ground. They were heading north to meet Nimros. It would be a week's worth of journey for all of them under the heat.  
  
Reckan flipped the reins of his horse again when he noticed that the steeds were lagging behind from the first caravan.  
  
Cantering beside him was Novan. He turned with curiosity. "You seldom ride with the caravan, Novan." Reckan openly observed.  
  
"Aye, but this time it's different. I must deliver news personally to Nimros." Answered Novan as he took a sip of water from a goatskin water receptacle.  
  
"You have seen him before?" Reckan have been wondering what Nimros looked like for none seemed to know or if they knew, they would not say of any description.  
  
"Yes, I have." Novan caught his breath slightly as he stared ahead then eyed the other man in a sidelong glance. "And I suggest that you should not pursue any more of this little quest of finding his identity." Novan warned and soon trotted ahead to the first caravan. He left Reckan alone, only to make his own curiosity grew a little deeper. Reckan soon resolved in finding out more about Nimros and why he dealt with so many captives. It looked like that Nimros was building a kingdom of some sort. Quarrying at least was usually the known work over the plains.  
  
When dusk arrived, the two caravans were arranged facing across the other and at the middle was a campfire for the captives and while several yards away was another campfire for the slave traders.  
  
The prisoners again were led out from their wagon cages and liked before the main chain link was driven to the ground secured by the peg. They ate their scraps of food in silence while several of them that did not easily accept their situation; began devising a plan of escape. Leader of such mass departure is Vanmeare, Avalenne's younger brother, who will not stand just to be sold like senseless pigs in a market without a fight. With his fiery heart and mind, he managed to convince the other men.  
  
Soon, ten able bodied men were ready when the time for escape drew near. Now, that they were out from the cages Vanmeare's problem of not being able to pass the word to the other captives was solved. The captives spoke in very low tones among themselves. Unknown to them, Brindor, a fellow captive has ideas to alert Reckan of Vanmeare's escape plans.  
  
"Now, that we have told the others that we have plans to escape," said Gildon, a captive from Bree. "How are we going to achieved it?" lifting the thick chain that ran through the metal ring attached to the shackles that bounded his hands and continued to another metal ring found attached to his leg irons. This manner proves to limit all the captive's movements save for a few steps of walking. The leg space afforded by the irons was not wide enough for an individual to run.  
  
"The only thing I can think of is to overpower Dollem," nodding towards the man sitting near the other campfire. "He keeps all the keys. We get him, we can unlock these chains."  
  
Gildon looked at him in disbelief. "Vanmeare, you must have thought that there are many keys in Dollem's possession. How are we supposed to find the right keys for those ten locks? By the time we know one, we will be dead." He said in aghast.  
  
Vanmeare gravely nodded as he saw his point. This was the part that he knew might fail but it was better to do something than nothing at all.  
  
"If you have a better plan. Then we are willing to hear it.' Vanmeare invited kindly. "I know it does sound foolhardy, but it is only I can think off in such a short time. The way I see, we no longer have the chance to study our captors, to seek more ways of escaping from these dire straits we find ourselves in. I fear that as the journey lengthens our spirit will soon be broken." He told them in an even low tone. Silence surrounded them as they consider his words. Nearly half of them were already spent from the travel and more might expire before the journey was completed. Vanmeare glanced to his left and he noticed Lonielle shivered from the cold. She was not that much older than he was and she came from Lake Town, which lay east of the Misty Mountains.  
  
"How are we going to make Dollem come over here?" Gildon's question brought him back to the task. The other man clearly wanted to know although he could see his uncertainty in his eyes and on the faces before him. Still, they were willing to take the chance if it worked.  
  
Vanmeare was about to respond to Gildon's question when they heard Reckan call Dollem. The prisoners went silent and furtively glanced at the two slave drivers sitting several yards away of the campfire.  
  
Reckan glanced from where he was sitting near the campfire and noticed the huddled position of the captives. This made him uneasy.  
  
"Dollem," He called the man to his side. "Check the prisoners." Reckan nodded towards the captives. "I do not like it when they huddle very close." He said and the other man walked away.  
  
"SIT APART!" Dollem yelled as he approached the prisoners. His hand readies at the hilt of his sword.  
  
The prisoners looked up and glanced towards his direction with weary eyes.  
  
"Sit apart, now!" Dollom voice rang out again.  
  
Brindor, who was in the first caravan of prisoners, was about to stand up to call out Reckan's attention only managing a muffled offf when a prisoner hit him with a rock on the base of his head.  
  
"That should silence you for a while Brindor," muttered the man. "We do not care for your kind, sly tongue." He spits the ground beside Brindor.  
  
"Now, Vanmeare has nothing to worry about." The man said and caught a grateful nod from Avalenne who waited for the sign of the escape. She also told everyone ready.  
  
Across them, the prisoners from the second caravan obediently moved away from each other while their faces carry one knowing look.  
  
"What were you doing huddle close to one another?" He demanded as he leaned forward peering hard at the blank faces before him.  
  
Vanmeare stilled his breath as he noticed Dollem's neck just inches above him. An idea came to him in a flash and set to work. He hoped Gildon thinks on his feet too.  
  
"Gildon was merely showing us a magic trick he learned in Bree whence he came before getting captured." He sarcastically answered the man.  
  
Gildon looked at him in shock but gave his best to remain unaffected by the statement.  
  
Although Vanmeare's response prompted Dollem to kick him at the back that made the young man arched his body to the side. This was the distraction he needed and readied his chain.  
  
"A magic trick?" Dollem repeated, curious. "Show me a magic trick" he told the man sitting across Vanmeare and leaned further so as not to miss it. Then Vanmeare made his move.  
  
He threw the chains around Dollem's neck and pulled him over-forward before the man had the chance to react. Still clutching the chains as hard as he could, he cut the air by tightening the chains around Dollem's neck until he squirmed no longer.  
  
"Gildon," Vanmeare rasped. " Quickly on your feet and pretend to be Dollem!"  
  
"What!" The other man nearly shouted in shock.  
  
"Stand up, Gildon now. Before our trick is gone." He desperately told the man.  
  
Gildon followed and stood up facing the campfire! Vanmeare threw the master keys to Sirman, the first in the link and the other prisoner began working on his locks.  
  
"No, not towards the campfire!" Vanmeare told him when he glanced up again.  
  
Gildon quickly swiveled and breathed hard in panic. "For how long do I have to stand out here?" Worry etched in his voice. He did not want to be out in the open.  
  
"We when get all our locks to open." Vanmeare said as a tinge of exasperation lined his voice as he finally unlocks his shackles and leg irons.  
  
Reckan glanced over his shoulder, saw Dollem standing near the prisoners, and went back to talk to one of his men.  
  
Five more shackles were unlocked with still more to go. Vanmeare adopted the plan, was when Sirman got hold of the keys; he would use one key first. When it unlocks his own shackles and the leg irons, he then pass the other keys to the next prisoners. If that key failed, he still has to pass it for the others to use until the rightful key and lock was a match. The process is continued until the all of them escape. Passing the key to the next group proved to be difficult since they were working in very poor lighting and if the one who receives the key was not keen enough then it will not bode well for them. Fortunately, Benthorb had sharp eyes. So now, the two groups steadily worked on unlocking their individual shackles and leg irons as fast as they could and as silent as they can.  
  
Another click and Gildon's own fetters fell from his hands and feet.  
  
"I am free?" He asked almost stupefied tone unbelieving that the harsh bonds were all gone.  
  
"Yes, you are free." Vanmeare repeated to his friend as he smiled. He saw him wearing a delighted smile on his face. Three more fetters to unlock and it has become unnerving at most.  
  
Vanmeare glanced at the other group and saw Avalenne's head bobbing in expectation for his signal. His sister held out both of her hands to count that there were ten more still bounded.  
  
He could not explain it but he was half expecting Reckan to recall Dollem back any moment and then their escape would be for naught. He came close to even hearing Reckan's own footsteps approaching them. However, he stole another look over his shoulder and found that Reckan was deep in conversation with another man. He prayed to the deities watching over them to keep their captors occupied before they could be set free.  
  
"Let's go," urged a free captive from Vanmeare's group.  
  
"No, not yet," Vanmeare said firmly. "We have to wait. Ten more unlock fetters." He glared at the person who for a while has been challenging his decision.  
  
"The longer we wait the chances for us to escape will be slim." The other rebutted.  
  
"Listen to me," Vanmeare's tone was hard as he tried to restrain his anger. "My sister," grabbing him by his tattered tunic, "is in the other group and she has not freed herself and nine more from their group. We will leave together." With that, he let go of the man. He looked over Avalenne's group and this time she gave a signal that all of them were free.  
  
This was the difficult part of the plan. He had not wished to be separated from his sister but it could not be help. Keeping a leveled gazed at his sister and she of him. Vanmeare gave the signal. The ground shook from the numerous feet fleeing away from the camp. Vanmeare ran towards his sister and caught her by the waist as the undulating force of three-dozen prisoners wanting only freedom swept them. All the captives sprang to their feet as if some hidden strength has been awakened.  
  
The low rumble woke Reckan and several of his men up. Apparently, they all had dozed off and with the low light cast by the campfire; it gave their site a starker appearance than the previous hours ago.  
  
Horses neighing and sounds of hooves beating the ground, took a while for Reckan's mind to register what was happening. Novan's clear angry voice jolted him to his feet.  
  
"The prisoners! They are escaping!" He shouted so loud that his voice rang out several yards away.  
  
Immediately, the other men ran after the prisoners under the light of the stars while others took out their bolas and hurled it to unsuspecting prisoners. They subsequently fell to the ground as the weapon entangled themselves to his feet.  
  
Vanmeare and his sister frantically ran to a horse that was grazing near a tree but slowed to a walk this time. They had a chance to ride on a different horse a while ago had it not bolted away from them.  
  
This time Vanmeare was trying not to loose this one. It had no saddle on but they had no choice but to try to ride the animal bareback, if it let them.  
  
"Easy, friend." Vanmeare approached the horse while trying to gain the trust of the animal. When it remained munching the grass, he continued his approach and this time stroked the neck of the horse. "We would be honored if you will let us ride you." Vanmeare said in a way of asking permission to the horse. He had great respect for the horses for he and his sister were born of Rohan, the horse-country. Nevertheless, unlike the horses of that great region, this animal was slight than he would like though still looked sturdy and young on its own. The horse snorted in agreement, as he eyed his new master.  
  
"Thank you, friend." Vanmeare whispered and vaulted on the horse's back. "Come," Vanmeare's voice was filled with urgency. "He will bear us," and bent low so that his sister could fully grab his arm. He hoisted her up and she sat behind him.  
  
"We have no reins, Vanmeare," his sister said pausing to note this. "Nor saddle?"  
  
"Aye, yet, we can still ride him. He is not skittish. Hold tight now," and when he felt his sister's hold around his waist tightened, he clutched lightly on the horse's mane and with a command the horse galloped with sheer power that was inherent in the animal.  
  
"Do you know where you are going, Vanmeare?" Avalenne asked from behind after they have ridden in silence.  
  
"I am following the stars home, sister." Vanmeare answered her. "But if it will calm your nerves, we will stop as soon we have put some distance away from our captors."  
  
"I hope all them fared well." Avalenne whispered after a little while and Vanmeare knew whom she spoke of. He too hoped that the other prisoners escaped.  
  
Back to the camp, five of the two-dozen captives were re-captured. Most of Reckan's horses seemed to have fled or were ridden away although, a good number of their animals returned to their former masters.  
  
Novan took eight of his men to search for the wandering prisoners. Armed with torches which they help aloft they flanked each other for several yards. However, since the night has already deepened they could only searched for an hour at best before returning to their site. By the time they came back, they herded five more into the camp.  
  
"Put them back to the cage," Novan ordered and scowled at the ten re- captured prisoners. "If it were left to me, I would have you starved for your insolence!" He pointed a wagging finger at them.  
  
"As soon as day break arrives, we ride." Novan told his men. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Bad Dreams

Chapter Seven: Bad Dreams  
  
"Hey, Lebelon! It is time to eat." Enerion said in a loud voice.  
  
The boy woke up with a start and began rubbing his eyes. The sky was just opening to the few rays of dawn and a cool wind swept through the area, flickering the fire in their campsite as Enerion handed him a plate of what looks like a cooked fowl.  
  
"Better eat. We will not be stopping till mid-day arrives," he said.  
  
The boy followed what he was told and before long, he had consumed his meal.  
  
Enerion doused the fire with little water and covered the small pit with sand. It left a thin smoke rising from the dark embers.  
  
He grabbed the boy and hoisted him to the saddle. He later mounts his steed and they start on an easy pace before breaking into a gallop.  
  
The boy held his head straight to let the rush of the wind beat against his little face. It was very cool and the brown flat plain fell past behind him.  
  
He numbly stared at the unchanging scene ahead of him; all was blur. Where are they going? His mind asked. His sisters were dead and his parents too. What am I still doing here? He stared at the ground for so long that his eyes close as sleep beckoned and the dream haunts him again.  
  
The dream opens...  
  
~~~His father was warding off the men with his sword while his mother in pure haste strapped something around his waist and soon unsheathed a short sword of her own in order to protect him from the men on horseback. They laughed at her, taunted her, and gave her lewd expressions of their lust for her. Sounds of metal clashing came to his right and he swiveled his head to see what was happening. He saw his father engaged in a sword fight with two men! His father successfully dispatched them with ease and readied himself to meet the next one. A laugh distracted Movlen. It was close to him that he screamed in fright. His fevered body could not make a move to protect himself but the man ceased any sound when his mother drove her short sword to the man's side. With a yell, another man came down on his mother; he warned her just time and saw her wounding him on the chest when he made a lunge for her. Then someone clamped a hand over his mouth! He could not scream another warning to his mother. For another man was behind her and slowly advancing towards her. A muffled scream erupted within him as he body wriggled hard on the ground. He watched helplessly in horror as his mother was struck from behind. His father, hearing the scream of his wife, was suddenly caught off guard. He ran immediately towards the man who slew his wife. They fought intensely, but the boy saw that the man had advance skills. He deftly parried the sword strikes coming from his father and soon the other man struck him in the mid-section thus mortally killing him as well. It was after that time when the hand was released from his mouth. However, strangely enough, there was no sound coming from his mouth now. He stared blankly at the lifeless bodies of his parents as the remaining men carried him off.  
  
"The boy does not speak, Reckan. We should have left him!" called out the man who was responsible in silencing the boy's outburst a while ago..  
  
"Never mind. Let Mayarlos decide what to do with him." The man named Reckan decided.~~~  
  
The dream ends.  
  
The boy let out a gurgled cry and began kicking the horse. All in response to the dream, he was experiencing again. The frantic movements startled Enerion as he tried to calm both the horse and the boy. They came to trot when the boy's thrashing subsided.  
  
He set the kid down and quickly checked his horse. There were telltale bruise marks on the area where the boy kicked hard.  
  
Enerion glares at the boy for a moment. "Do not try to become a burden, boy."  
  
"Then what do you what from me!" The boy nearly screamed at Enerion. The man was taken aback at the fury held by the child as he stared back at him.  
  
"So, you speak." Enerion remarked after a while has passed. The boy did not answer him and the neighing of the horse was the only sound that broke the silence.  
  
"I will bring you to your sister," Enerion started again when the boy refused to speak.  
  
"You are lying!" the boy said as his body trembled with emotions.  
  
"Quite the contrary, I saw her, alive and taken by the elves," he answered the boy and started to walk back to his horse.  
  
The boy glanced at him with full suspicion. "Why?"  
  
"Why?" echoed the man as he mounted back on his horse and waited for the boy to follow. When he did not, he continued.  
  
"It has been said that the Elves great halls house jeweled treasures far imaginable by mortal man. Now, I plan to take them in exchange for your life. If your sister wishes to see you again, then all she has to do, is make a plea to the Elves to honor a trade." Enerion said and leveled a glare at the child.  
  
The boy wavers under the ruthless stare of the man.  
  
"If you think you can escape now, look around you," he let out a derisive laugh. "There are but rocks around and wolves hunt in packs at night if the sun does not kill you first." He flatly said and held out his open hand. "You have a choice boy, which one will you choose."  
  
The boy hesitated and did not like to choose. When he was growing up, his parents taught him right from wrong and he knew the Elves were good people from the stories his father told him long ago but, he was alone in the plains with many bad things happen even to good people like his parents. So, with a heavy heart, he walked forward and felt his skin crawl when he took Enerion's outstretched hand that hoisted him in front of the saddle.  
  
"Good." Enerion remarked and soon they rode the plains as fast as the horse could take them.  
  
Elsewhere, Anathea hobbled towards the railing to look out at the view from her room. She had been very curious of what this place was and wanted to know more about it but Estel was not with her yet. Anathea gasped in wonder at the sight before her. She gripped the railing as emotions run through her in pure amazement where she stood by, observing. She had never seen that such a beautiful place would truly exist in Middle Earth. It felt like all her cares have fallen away and she was suspended in an ethereal realm so different from what she knew.  
  
The sight held her and in silence, she began to dream of a world that was far from pain and sadness. She wondered if there were anymore like this place and continued gazing at the far away falls that fed the river underneath it. She could not see the whole length of river for it ran below far from her sight from where she is.  
  
She breathed in deeply and the scent of pine intermingled with rosemary were recognizable fragrance sweeping into her chamber. A loud chirp greeted above her head and found the Thrush again, coming for another visit today. She smiled at the bird.  
  
"Hello there," she greeted back and followed the bird's flight when he perched closer this time, on the railing near her. Anathea giggled. She had never been so close to a bird and made sure not to make sudden movements that would frighten it away, she slowly lifted her forefinger and stroked the body of the bird. It chirped again. The delight of feeling the soft feathers run under her finger made Anathea giggle again.  
  
"It is also nice to make your acquaintance again," she carried out her monologue. The Thrush hopped this time to her forefinger and Anathea was giggling all over, as she felt, the Thrush's little feet wrapped on her finger while blasting out another series of chirps.  
  
"I would love to dance with you, but I am still not well," Anathea replied looking rather disappointed.  
  
The bird chirped.  
  
Anathea nodded. "Yes, my ankle has not healed yet."  
  
Estel was heading down the hall when he heard laughter coming from Anathea's room. He was suddenly curious and wondered what she could be laughing at. Silently, he opened her door to a crack and peered into her room. He saw her leaning on the railing with a Thrush on her hand. It was chirping madly at her.  
  
"Is that so."  
  
He heard her say. He came in.  
  
"I would love to go and see more of your beautiful home once I am well." She promised.  
  
The Thrush chirped again.  
  
"You are very insistent, are you?" Anathea chided a little. "Very well, when I am well, I will go and we can have the whole day exploring. Will you show me your secret place?" She asked this time.  
  
The bird seemed to bob its tiny head in affirmation and finally prepared for another flight. The bird rustled its feathers and spread its wings. With a push from its legs, the Thrush flew away.  
  
"Thank you." Anathea waved upwards.  
  
Estel burst forward. "You made a friend?" He called out rather loudly that startled the girl.  
  
"I'm sorry," He stopped himself when Anathea gasped. "I will try to be more quiet." Estel amended.  
  
Anathea chuckled. "No," she started wagging her head. "It is fine. There was no harm done." Anathea replied.  
  
Estel came up beside her and noticed that he came up barely reaching her shoulders. He is short. I really must make sure Father feeds me right. Estel took a mental note.  
  
"How old are you?" Estel asked curious.  
  
"Eleven," answered Anathea. "And you?" looking back at the falls.  
  
"Seven."  
  
"Is it this beautiful, Estel?" Anathea asked with a breathless tone in her voice.  
  
"Always," Estel replied. "I heard you talking to a bird? I didn't know you could do it too." There was a slight annoyance creeping in his voice.  
  
"Anathea's brow furrowed. "You're annoyed?" She asked puzzled.  
  
"My brothers could understand any animal here in Middle Earth except for the fell things that roam the lands that is and I was trying to understand Nimloth yesterday, but all she did was throw me to the ground." Estel patted his still sore back for emphasis.  
  
"Nimloth?" Anathea repeated not following Estel's story.  
  
"Nimloth, is a female foal at the stables." Estel provided and glanced inquiringly at the girl. "You haven't been to the stables, right. I must bring you next time." He told her after realization hit him.  
  
"You seldom, wake up so early in the morning. What made this time different?" Estel asked, curious.  
  
Anathea looked strangely at him and for a moment, a flicker of distrust came over her face but she shook her head as if to clear the bad thought away from her mind. She was not among strangers who were going to hurt her. She was safe.  
  
"I had a bad dream and I couldn't sleep." She replied and continued. "And I decided to watch the coming of dawn over..." She groped for the word Estel told her before.  
  
"Im..." She tried to remember.  
  
"Imladris." Estel finished for her when he figured out what she was saying.  
  
"Imladris." Anathea repeated as she nodded.  
  
"What was the dream about?" asked Estel, genuinely intrigued.  
  
"I was chased by the five men and that they caught me. They were all laughing around me. I..." her lips started to tremble. "I saw my sister's body on the ground and that of my parents, Estel." Looking at him with sorrowful eyes but sharply averted them and stared again at the faraway waterfall. "My family is gone." She whispers more to herself and closes her eyes. Estel stood silent by her side not knowing what to say.  
  
"I lost my father when I was very young and I can not remember my mother's face." Estel shared, his own brows furrowed as he tried countless times trying to remember what his mother looked like only that he could only remember his mother's name.  
  
"Your uncle will only be very happy to know that you are well and recovering, once he sees you." He told her, trying to cheer her up. However, the girl seemed to be lost in her thoughts and appeared to have not heard him. So Estel let the silence fall between them and idly watched a hummingbird flit pass them.  
  
A bell rang inside the inner halls of the house and Estel took Anathea's arm. The girl turned to look at him quizzically.  
  
"Morning meal is set." He explained. "Why don't you join us at the table. I'm sure father won't mind." He gave her a small smile, glad that something has changed the subject.  
  
The girl nodded and hobbled beside Estel out of the room. Along the way, the two found out that it was hard to keep their balance straight. They only succeeded a few yards when finally both of them crashed onto a vase. Estel was pinned underneath Anathea that he could not save the vase from breaking on the floor.  
  
"Do you think someone heard that?" Anathea asked in a hush tone as she saw the ceramic in pieces. She tried to push herself up as Estel squirmed from under her. Estel would have roared in laughter from Anathea's remark but instead bit his lips.  
  
"Yes, unfortunately and my father will be displeased." He said while gravely looking at the scattered ceramic pieces.  
  
Let me help you," a warm male voice from behind her offered and Anathea was soon easily swept up the floor. She felt her cheeks go warm when she found out that Elrohir carried her in his arms. She quickly looked away, embarrassed.  
  
"Elrohir!" Estel voice came out like a squeak. "Please, don't tell, Father." He begged as he followed his brother into the dining hall.  
  
"Tell me what?" Elrond asked from his seat as they entered the room. He had a very good idea of the mischief that had happened down the hall as the elf lord's eyes inquiringly gazes at his human son and on Anathea.  
  
"Anathea, I would have one of my attendants bring your meal to your room," The elf lord offered.  
  
Elrohir gently sets her down and waits for Anathea to take her seat before going to his own chair across the table. Elladan watched his brother with a sly gleam in his eyes. However, he decided not to tease his brother just yet.  
  
"Estel invited me to join you. I had thought it was all right," she politely tells him while looking at the faces gathered around the table seeking approval.  
  
Elrond smiled as he nodded. "That was very thoughtful of you, son." His father complimented. "We are glad that you can join us for breakfast, Anathea."  
  
The boy smiled and had temporarily forgotten what happened along their way to the dining hall. However, Elrond did not forget and he planned to ask Estel about it after the meal.  
  
The family ate and it was Anathea's first time to eat other elven food besides the broth that she had become accustomed too. She knew she would not forget this experience for the rest of her life. The conversation was hearty and Anathea enjoyed her time eating with the Elven family. She listened intently to the brothers' stories and Elrond noted that she was extremely fascinated by their encounters.  
  
"Oh," she started as if she forgot something. She glanced around the table as if looking for someone. The Elves and Estel turned to her, questioningly.  
  
"Shouldn't we have waited for your wife, Lord Elrond?" Anathea innocently asked.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir stiffened a little in their seats while their father spoke.  
  
"My wife," Elrond began in a soft tone that Anathea almost missed if she wasn't listening attentively.  
  
"Has sailed for the Undying lands many years ago." He ended and offered no further explanation. An awkward silence fell on the small group around the table.  
  
Anathea didn't understand what he meant and but she had sensed that it was something not freely discussed so she dropped the subject and apologized greatly for her impoliteness.  
  
"No child. You have no fault in the matter," Elrond told her, as his face breaking in an understanding half smile that was sincere. "You had no way of knowing." He lays a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Soon the meal was over and again, Elrohir carried Anathea back to her room followed by his father and brothers. Elladan kept quiet on the side but caught Anathea's gaze upon him when she happened to look to his direction. She could see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, which made her flushed even more. She had an idea that the older twin will tease Elrohir when he had a chance.  
  
"Let us see your ankle," Elrond remarked when Elrohir lowered her to the bed so that his father could begin examining Anathea's ankle.  
  
"The swelling has subsided and the bruise has disappeared," Elrond told her. Anathea flinches at little at Elrond's touch and came to a decision that another week was needed for her ankle to heal completely.  
  
"Another week." She groaned.  
  
"Yes," Elrond emphasized and detected the boredom in the child's voice. "And by that time your uncle will be here to take you to Gondor."  
  
"My uncle..." The girl repeated.  
  
Elrond noted the forgetful tone of the girl about her uncle's family. Imladris seemed to have that effect with transients. Anathea wondered what it would be like to live with her uncle. She was starting to get accustomed to living with the Elves.  
  
Elrond nodded as he carefully watched the girl. "I will be sending out my messenger today to bring word to your uncle. Tell me, what is his name?"  
  
"His name is Amros." She said in a quiet voice.  
  
"Do you not want to be your family, Anathea?" Elrond gently asks.  
  
"I do want to be with them. But it always feels that the moment I start liking a place, just like now, I find out that I have to move again. It is always the same what my father did to us." Her voice shook a little.  
  
"I spent most of my life going from one hamlet to another that I have forgotten what it was like to just stay at one place." The girl said in a frustrated tone. "Now, that they are gone..."  
  
"But you do not know for certain," Elrohir interrupted her.  
  
Anathea looked at him in quiet disbelief. "I just know. I saw them in my dream, last night." She shivered.  
  
Elrond sympathized with the girl and raised a hand to Elrohir to stop him from saying anymore which could upset the girl. He understood Anathea's need for permanence. Just as the Elves remained in Middle Earth, they strove to retain what was left from the Glory of the Eldar. However, they had come to know that through passage of time, the dominion of the West would pass to the Men and no matter how one looks at it; the Firstborns will become myths to the lives of Men.  
  
As for this child, the stability of having a home was identified with her parents and now they were gone, Anathea is striving to find it here.  
  
"You have not lost your family, Anathea. They lived through you," Elrond began to explain as he sat beside her and quickly noted her look of rejection of what he was going to say next. Not to be deterred, he placed his hand on the girl's head so that she will listen.  
  
"It is true that circumstance has forced you to be permanently separated from your parents and from your sister, but they are in you. The things they have taught you while you were growing up in those places you have been to, the values they left behind. They are with you because they know what they have taught you, would someday become useful in your own life. That is part of their legacy, Anathea. Wherever you maybe, you will always carry them with you."  
  
"It's not the same," she mumbled as the pain came reverberating back.  
  
Elrond watched her as he felt his heart broke to see another child come to grips of the loss of her own parents. "I know, Anathea and how I wish we can we take away your pain but we cannot. Through time you will also heal." He said softly as he took the girl in his arms when she started to cry. "We are here, Anathea." He said reassuring her while slowly rocking her to calm the child. Soon her sobs were all spent and Anathea heave a long sigh.  
  
"Please stay for a little while until I fall asleep?" Anathea requested as she stared into space. Her eyelids drooped from the calling of sleep.  
  
"Of course, Anathea." Elrond replied as he helped her settled in her bed.  
  
Anathea looked at the others with glistening eyes and clutched the extra pillow close to her.  
  
Elrond turned to his sons. They all nodded in understanding and left the room.  
  
Outside the room, Estel looked up to his brothers. "I hope she'll be well again."  
  
Elladan placed a hand on Estel's little shoulders as he knelt beside him. "We remember how long and hard it was for you too, Estel."  
  
"And I'm glad, you, Elrohir and father were always there." Estel told him as he gave his older brother a hug. "I wish we can do that for her too."  
  
With that, the brothers walked away.  
  
Elrond stayed with the girl as she tried to sleep. Then he thought of an elvish lullaby, he used to sing to his sons then to Estel when the boy was having a hard time sleeping. He started to sing the lullaby to Anathea.  
  
Anathea stirred inside the covers as she heard the voice singing through her. It was in a language very unfamiliar to her ears but her heart was grieving too much and the emotional spin of her feelings left her exhausted again that her eyes remained close and only listened to the voice, gentle touch.  
  
She rolled to one side, facing the singer while her hand stretched out on the covers as if it was seeking for the other hand. Elrond took her hand and held it. The little fingers interlaced with his and as he finished the song, the girl was breathing easily and rhythmic rise and fall of her chest told him that she was asleep.  
  
He leaned forward to give her a fatherly kiss. "You will never be alone, child." He whispered in grey tongue and slowly removed his hand from her grasp. He stood for a few more minutes before quietly leaving the room. 


	8. Chapter Eight: Sightings

Chapter Eight: Sightings  
  
Elrond finished folding the parchment, he had prepared and had placed the emblem of his house as the seal for the ruling Steward of Gondor to identify when his chief messenger finally came into his study.  
  
Bowing in respect to the elf lord, the messenger took the sealed parchment and slipped it into his small bag.  
  
"Take it to the ruling Steward of Gondor and I hope you will be able to bring the girl's uncle here to Imladris." Elrond instructed his messenger further about the girl in their keeping. When he finished, the messenger left the library.  
  
Estel looked up from his work when his father came by to check on his development on the piece of parchment he had been given to work on for his writing skills.  
  
Elrond suppresses a smile and instead casts a wry look at what his son's tells him to be his handwriting. Sighing inwardly, he squints at the scribbled marks.  
  
"Estel, please try to concentrate on your handwriting," Elrond slightly chided as he noted the eager look on his son face. The boy clearly wanted to be outdoors, join his brothers for another lesson, and not slave on his writing exercises.  
  
"You will spend tomorrow with your brothers instead," he firmly decided. Elrond was not particularly happy with the boy's efforts today and he was not going to let Estel play with his feelings now. He had to instill some discipline in the child and of course, to write distinctly.  
  
"But father..." he started to protest.  
  
"Estel, do you want me to add another day before you can join your brothers out in the woods?" Elrond asked as his voice taking a stern tone as his elegant brow rose.  
  
Estel stopped with his protest as he recognized his father's tone and demeanor. He obediently pulled his concentration back into his writings. "No, father." He spoke meekly while trying to force down the fidgety- feeling he was starting to get.  
  
"You will need this, Estel." His father said in gentler tones while placing a hand on the boy's shoulders. He could easily see the struggle his youngest son was having, trying to control his restlessness. "There will be time for play." He assured the child but let his hand stay on the boy's shoulder for a while until he was satisfied that Estel had managed to quell his heart. Elrond soon stretched his tall frame and remained at the boy's side.  
  
Estel automatically nodded and went back to practicing his hand writing again. Elrond watched him for a few minutes before moving to his study.  
  
~******~  
  
Several leagues away, across the vast broken plain, two riders on one horse charged through the land. Vanmeare and Avalenne rode in silence for several hours now and both wished to be back to the land of their great nation, Rohan. However, this was not the only thing in Avalenne's mind.  
  
"Vanmeare, if we go back to Rohan, the chance in finding the children will be lost." Avalenne said to her brother in a worried tone. She had not slept much the previous night as her mind kept wandering on what has befallen to her sons.  
  
"We have to go back and find them," Avalenne pleaded.  
  
"We will find them, Avalenne but both of us have no strength to go on in an extended journey without adequate provisions and rest. We will surely die thus not be of any help to the children." Vanmeare reasoned.  
  
Avalenne bit her quivering lips. It was not from the cold that they trembled but from the hunger pangs that she was experiencing. She knew her brother said was true but it did not ease much of her concern and as the day passed, it only increased her anxiousness to ride out and search for her sons instead.  
  
"We will find them, Avalenne." Vanmeare promised.  
  
~******~  
  
"There are no signs of the others," reported one of Reckan's men.  
  
"We have searched long enough." Novan boomed from behind Reckan. "Break camp and we must proceed now with greater speeds." He ordered.  
  
With that, Novan left them and moved to the front of the caravan. Reckan gestured his men to follow and soon one wagon was journeying through the rough plain. Inside, the 13 weary prisoners sat in a disconsolate heap as their hope of escape vanished from their eyes.  
  
Five hours into their travel and stopping only for a very short rest, the caravan continued to trudge on the northward journey. Most of the prisoners knew there was no settlement of any kind found in that area so they were very puzzled as to why they were heading there at all. One of the captives struck a conversation with Reckan who was sitting up front beside the other wagon driver.  
  
"Surely, you can now tell us who has bought us." Telvero asked Reckan from behind the bars. The other man merely gave him a sidelong glance and continued on chewing a root that was in his mouth.  
  
"Please!" Telvero's calm face finally broke as his voice screeched. This time Reckan half-turned to regard him and the rest of the prisoners.  
  
"You'll be serving the dark man from the North," he told them as he looked at the despicable wretches. "Until the end of your lives." He said so matter-of-factly that the captives could not help but gasped at their fate. If some of them have panic, they were not expressing it -yet.  
  
~******~  
  
Ilmelion, the chief messenger of Lord Elrond leaned forward to bring more speed into his steed's gallop. Flanking on either side of him, are the two guards sent along with him in his journey out from Imladris. Their strong horses beat down the ground with succinct cadence that it was hard to believe that Ilmelion was not a part of the elven army. They have left the protective realm of Imladris and ventured forth on their way to Gondor. Once there, he would go to the ruling steward and ask to be brought to Anathea's uncle where they will journey back to Imladris to take Anathea with him. Normally, Ilmelion would not need an armed escort for such a routine errand but the Easterlings were found near their borders and Lord Elrond did not want to take a chance of a mishap.  
  
The sun rose steadily until midday arrived and the Elves gave their horses a well-deserved rest before hitting back on the road. When it was time to move on, they mounted and rode for about a league or so when Himandel noticed something ahead of them. He spoke to Ilmelion.  
  
"Two riders on a horse, four leagues away from us, riding in haste as well."  
  
"We will be careful," Ilmelion said and they continued riding in silence. The afternoon sun beat down on the riders for hours until it began to dip over the horizon to signal the coming of dusk.  
  
~*****~  
  
Movlen looked up from where he was sitting under an old tree as Enerion put wood into a small pit he had made. It was going to be dark soon and it was best to start hunting for dinner. Movlen stared with a sullen face as the man went out again after kindling the fire with pieces of old wood he found scattered about. Enerion watched the boy stroking his horse and soon stood up.  
  
"I will be getting us our dinner, Lebelon." He told the boy as if he was referencing a tool. "I trust you will not ride away with the horse." Enerion sarcastically said.  
  
My name is not Lebelon, but Movlen! His mind bit back but he wasn't going to let Enerion know that. He said to himself.  
  
"No," the child bluntly replied without hesitation.  
  
Soon, Enerion left the camp satisfied that the boy would not give him trouble and went to find food. Movlen finally left alone began studying the tree before him. He wondered if it could still hold him. It offered little shade as most of its leaves have dried out. There wasn't any river flowing near the tree anymore too. Therefore, it was withering to its death until it would become hollow reminder of what it was once.  
  
He did see a dried riverbed a few miles back but its streams leading to the tree have were empty long ago. He reached for the low branch and began climbing. He tested it first before settling all his weight on it. He felt the tree could still hold his body weight though. He climbed more using the branches like a ladder and perched on one branch that gave him a bird's eye view of their surroundings.  
  
He found Enerion walking for some fifty paces away from the camp and steadily moving to a cluster of rocks where he disappeared when he climbed down from them.  
  
Movlen watched the vast stretch of land for any signs of travelers. The idea of riding away from Enerion wasn't a bad one unfortunately; he doesn't know where he is. He couldn't tell where he should go. He was afraid that if he did take the horse, the animal might be lead him back to his captor and he doesn't want that. So, there he was sitting and staring gloomily in space. His young eyes failed to see that there were indeed three riders about and if he was gifted with keen eyesight, he could have easily called for help since the three riders happened to be Elves.  
  
~*****~  
  
The elf riders were moving in easy pace, this time letting their horses take the strain off from the full gallop several hours ago. Dusk has started around the plain and little puffs of mists swirled here and there over the area.  
  
Ilmelion curiously turned his attention to his left just as Himandel apprised him.  
  
"I see smoke rising upon that hill, near a tree, three leagues to the east." Himandel said as he pointed to the others.  
  
"Shall we investigate?" Narqueleon asked.  
  
Ilmelion shook his head. "We have matters to attend to and they are perhaps weary travelers seeking respite." He responded.  
  
"I believe our horses too need rest from the long travel. Let us find shelter for the night and see if the riders we saw ahead of us will be on the same route as ours the next morning." Himandel suggested and the other two riders nodded in agreement.  
  
Whatever Himandel felt from seeing that smoke by the tree, he let it go and concentrated on looking for shelter for his companions.  
  
~*****~  
  
Reckan sat a little straighter as was his other caravan driver. The horses started to be skittish when early dusk arrived.  
  
"What's wrong with them?" He demanded as the driver whipped the horses to move on. The animals neighed in protest but they continued but in a slackened pace.  
  
"We will not get there in a week's time if the animals are like this." Reckan said in annoyance that while the caravan driver did his best to control the horses to move forward, when an otherworldly shriek swept through their location. All the men on horseback wildly looked around in fright. They have not heard anything like it in their lives.  
  
Novan knew what was happening but he was puzzled, the Dark man was early. With the growing dusk, he thought his eyes were deceiving him but there it was, moving towards him, is the Black Rider.  
  
The caravan driver pulled hard on his reins and stopped in shock of what he saw ahead of them. Other of Reckan's men watched with sheer terror on what was approaching them. Others have bolted away from the terrifying sight and left only a handful of men behind.  
  
At the command of the Black Rider, his horse continued its walk towards Novan who was at the head of the caravan. The other man was calmly seated on his horse as if he had already known what to expect, Reckan observed. Although, he can not say much with Novan's horse because it was nervously neighing as if it wanted to bolt away from the TERROR on horseback. However, Novan tightly held his reins that his horse had no choice but to obey.  
  
Reckan watched while his throat suddenly went dry. Is this the Dark man from the North? His mind asked as Telvero voiced the same question behind him. The prisoner's tone was reduced to a mere whisper. Reckan studied the Black Rider while glancing at the same time towards the captives behind him, in the cage. He heard not a sound from the prisoners and saw them huddled at the back of the cage. Fear was in their eyes.  
  
The Black Rider passed Novan and was moving towards the caravan. His steed snorts with superiority as the rider and the animal walk along the side of the cage. The oppressing evil carried by the Black Rider nearly chokes one of the prisoners while it walked around the cage as if inspecting his goods. If the Black Rider looked disappointed, it was impossible to know since the face was hidden under the thick hood. Reckan felt his skin crawl and shivered from the evilness that was oozing from Black Rider.  
  
He has not met anything like this before. He continued to follow the Black Rider with his eyes while it completed its circuit of the caravan. The rider came up to the driver's side and Reckan couldn't help noticing that the driver grew paler than before.  
  
"Theeeyyy are fewwww," the rider hisses.  
  
Novan nods. "Many have escaped, dark rider." The slave trader replied. "But I will bring more." He hastily told him.  
  
The black rider seemed to be considering something before it continued.  
  
"Indeeed, youuuu will, Noooovann. I finnnd your men, suited fooor the work." The hood sharply looms pointedly looking at caravan driver. The other man shrinks in his seat staring into hood where the unseen eyes could be peering from within.  
  
Suddenly there was confusion! Swords were raised and they came crashing against other swords. Their surroundings seemed to explode with shrieks, shrills and hideous shouts that Rechan could not distinguish to which creature it came from. However, they were suddenly overwhelmed and forced into a tight group on center of what's left of the caravan. Immediately, they were ambushed; Novan's men scuttle about to avoid the rampage of these creatures that in the common tongue were called Orcs. However, it was useless. Broad swords pointed towards them as the Orcs sneered at their helplessness.  
  
"NOVAN, you traitor!" Reckan shouted when he was surrounded by three orcs wielding each a broad sword before him. No matter where he turned, there were orcs everywhere. He glared at the orc in front of him. It seemed to him that the creature was eyeing his neck. It was itching to give him a reason not to make one fell swoop off of his head at that moment.  
  
"Yooooouuuu have sssservvvved youuuurrrr purpossse," the Black Rider told Novan with satisfaction and ordered the orcs to put most of Novan's men inside the cage.  
  
"You will pay for this Novan! You hear me!" Yelled another angry henchman as the Orcs took over the caravan.  
  
"You will pay dearly for this!" He repeated hotly. However, Reckan knew the man's threat was ignored.  
  
The Black Rider soon let out blood-curdling shriek that every living thing on its way sidled away from this creature on horseback. 


	9. Chapter Nine: The Rescue

Chapter Nine: The Rescue  
  
The three Rivendell Elves sat straighter around the campfire they made as they listened to their surroundings. They heard a shriek that was just near the edge of their hearing, which by mortal standards was far superior to any other race. The shriek continued for more than a minute, then, the night was relieved from the hideous call and all was quiet again.  
  
Narquelion drew his cloak closer to his body. He was not cold but there was some eeriness that would not removed itself over the area and continued watching the darkening surroundings.  
  
When finally the loathsome sound was gone, he commented. "Telltale signs of evil is rearing its head in the lands again."  
  
"Aye," Himandel concurred. "The Dark years are yet to come," he spoke as he nudged a piece of wood into the fire. He glanced at Ilmelion. The messenger was abnormally quiet in their travel.  
  
"Is something bothering you, Ilmelion?" asked Himandel.  
  
The messenger wagged his dark-haired head. "I was only thinking of the shriek and what it could mean." He answered.  
  
"Do you think we will encounter Dunlendings as we approach their borders?" Ilmelion asked his companions, shifting their conversation.  
  
"It is possible as we will be passing through their territory," Narquelion replied.  
  
"But Himandel and I," he said with emphasis. " Will make sure Lord Elrond's messenger will make it safe," he said while arching an eyebrow in jest.  
  
A small smile broke on Ilmelion's face. "I am...flattered that you carry me in high regard, Narquelion." Ilmelion remarked with a wry smile on his face but he grew serious again. "I am thinking of the travelers, Himandel saw riding ahead of us." He could not silent the bad feeling tugging at the fringes of his mind.  
  
"Whoever they are, I do hope they are well armed." He said but he knew somehow that his words had truth in them.  
  
Narquelion decided to dispel the foreboding mood around the campfire in fact; it felt like it was still over the plains. The effect of the shriek had not faded or so they have thought. It was indeed clawing towards the three Rivendell folk. It was a shadow aimed to bring down any ray of hope and light in the land.  
  
The elf soon reached inside his tunic, for the short flute that he always carry in his travels. The little instrument was beautifully made with intricate Elvish scripts flourishing around its slender gray-white body. With customary ease, Narquelion's fingers sought the tiny holes on the body of the musical instrument. The polished surface seemed to sparkle that even the under the starlight, the wooden flute gleam in light brilliance. Narquelion brought the instrument close to his lips and began blowing Elvish tunes from it. Songs he remembered in his long life and the melodies began to fill the silence. Soon, the two other elves joined in, singing with their fair voices along with the merry music. The grave feeling that fell on the area retreated, pushed away by the magic of the Elves.  
  
Back in Imladris, Anathea hobbled inside her room. Estel was playing a trick on her that she knew for certain. She couldn't find the brush she was using a while ago and had a hunch Estel hid it.  
  
"I know you have it Estel," she said as she slowly moved from one trunk to another and leaned over to see if the boy was hiding behind them. No, Estel there. She thought and proceeded to a finely crafted divider in the room. It seemed ages had passed before she reached it and peeked behind the frame. The boy was still not there. Then she heard a snicker coming from behind. She turned around sharply and surveyed the room. Where did that laugh come from? She thought as her mind recalled the sound. As she continued to look around the few places where Estel could have hid, her eyes drifted under her bed. Acting on a hunch, she hobbled back to her bed. It was still clearly an effort on her part to reach the bed. Her chest burned slightly from the strain and found herself heaving for several breaths as she sat at the edge of the bed.  
  
Estel placed his hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud. He enjoyed playing hide-and-seek with Elladan and Elrohir but now, the object of his prank is Anathea. He watched from under her bed as she slowly made her route to the trunks. Then his eyes followed her feet as she walked towards the clothes divider that was at the corner of the room. Soon, he watched them heading towards the bed. He knew his snicker was loud enough to get her attention.  
  
The edge of the bed depresses inward as if a weight was on top of it. He knew Anathea had sat at the foot of the bed. He also could tell from the sounds of her heaving that she was catching her breath.  
  
Then Estel felt his muscles tense and mentally began a count off for his escape and at the exact moment, he rolled away.  
  
Anathea quickly drop to her knees and scanned under bed. She found no one underneath. She let out an exasperated breath; Estel was making it hard for her.  
  
"Estel," she called from the floor.  
  
"What?" The boy answered innocently from above her. Startled, Anathea looked on top of the bed. He was not there.  
  
"Up here." The boy said from above.  
  
Anathea followed the voice and saw Estel hugging the wooden female statue that was at the head of her bed. The girl slowly stood up.  
  
"Estel!" She said in surprise and noted with admiration the easy movements of the boy as he pushed away from statue. Apparently, Estel used the intricate wooden struts behind the statue for support so, as not to sit on the statue's fragile arms or else he would surely break them under his weight. He flopped on the middle of her the bed, smiling.  
  
The corners of Anathea's mouth curled a little for a coming smile as she remembered Estel hugging the statue. It looked funny but since he quickly sprang away from the statue, it seems less hilarious now.  
  
"Looking for this?" Estel handed her the brush, which the girl was searching for a while ago.  
  
"You could have injured yourself, Estel." Anathea slightly admonishes. Estel wagged his head. "No, I wouldn't." He told her with confidence and bounded off from the bed and headed to the door.  
  
"Would you like to join me the day after tomorrow for a visit of the grounds?" Estel offered.  
  
The girl's face brightened. "I would love that."  
  
"Good, see you then." Estel gave her a small wave and left the room.  
  
Anathea couldn't imagine the boy's exuberant energy since the little game easily made her tired. It's probably because of my wounds. She mused and slowly walked towards the balcony and watched the Elves passing under the trees from a distance. She noted with curiosity that they seemed to glow within themselves and by watching them she found them to have a calming effect on her. She hang her head over the railing, her chest braced against frame and let her arm sway languidly as if imagining some invisible water in a pond and was immediately lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the first knock by the door frame.  
  
Another soft knock shook her out from her reverie and Anathea turned around. She saw a smiling Elrohir by the doorway.  
  
"I came by to see how you are, Anathea," the elf said as he strode into her room.  
  
"I'm just..." pausing a little when a recollection of the brief game with Estel came to her mind.  
  
"Catching my breath," she finally said.  
  
Elrohir stood beside her and cast a puzzled look.  
  
"Estel, was here a while ago and he played a game by hiding my brush that I knew he had with him all along," she explained after seeing Elrohir's questioning glance.  
  
"Ah," Elrohir grins with understanding coming over his fair countenance. "He is fun of doing that." He said.  
  
Anathea momentarily felt herself staring at the towering elf and was in awe to be standing beside him. Her eyes traced the elegant lines of his clothes clearly marking him as from one of royalty. But she noted something else, a sadness?  
  
Elrohir turned to regard the little girl and had a feeling she was going to say something next so he waited for her to speak her mind.  
  
"Elrohir, what did you say to me when we were riding away from the Ford?" she asked, curious. She had been dreaming of an image since the day she was rescued by the Elves and she wanted to know.  
  
The elf placed his hand on the girl's head and was touched by her innocence. He knelt on one knee so he could be at eye level with the girl.  
  
"I said was, 'to stay with the light'," he replied and watched the girl.  
  
"Can you say it again? The same way you said it to me." The girl's brows furrowed a little as if she was remembering too the words.  
  
Again, Elrohir looked puzzled at the request but granted it and spoke to her in Elvish.  
  
The girl's eyes grew wide in wonder as she heard the different language. "It's beautiful." She breathlessly said.  
  
"In your time you will hear more languages, Anathea." Elrohir predicted.  
  
The girl grew quiet again and looked away from him. "I missed them, Elrohir," she said out right.  
  
Elrohir gave the little girl a comforting embrace, as he knew whom she was speaking of. There was a bleak sadness passing over her face that he failed to see.  
  
"I wish the hurt will disappear. I don't want it." She continued while her voice broke a little. Anathea arms tighten around Elrohir's neck. It was the child's way of seeking comfort from the unending pain that seems to keep on repeating inside her mind.  
  
"We are here, Anathea." Elrohir said gently and began stroking Anathea's back hoping to calm the girl, guessing that Anathea was about to cry at any moment. But it did not come, somehow. Instead, it was replaced with a long sigh until the girl drew herself away from him.  
  
"Thank you for saving my life. I realized I haven't thanked you at all." Anathea felt shamefaced.  
  
Elrohir wagged his head as if to say it was not necessary. "I am glad we were there to help." Elrohir replied and gave the little girl a comforting smile. He tucked away a strand of hair behind her ear when a breeze swept into the room and gazed at the small sad hazel green eyes. Wishing he could give her all the comfort the child needed.  
  
Anathea felt her face breaking into a smile and soon sat down on the floor. She felt at peace and contented that she didn't know how it came.  
  
Elrohir followed suit beside her and together the elf and the human girl shared stories under the moon radiating its light down on them.  
  
***************  
  
Two more days had passed in their journey to Gondor when Ilmelion, with two of his companions, found numerous hoof tracks on the ground. They were already in Dunland and their elven senses were heightened and have detected a second Dunlending group hiding out by the boulders, just a furlong away.  
  
Staying close to each other, they continued on their travel and a sight of a dead horse warned them of an ambush and more hoof prints.  
  
Narquelion hopped off from his steed and strode near the dead horse. A long spear had stabbed close the animal's heart.  
  
"Dunlendings." The elf reported as he recognized the weapon-make. He remounted his horse when Ilmelion spoke.  
  
"Just as I feared. The travelers have been waylaid." The messenger said.  
  
"Come then," Himandel urged the two. "Let us see if we can at least even the odds."  
  
**********  
  
Wrists and ankles bound and draped on the horse like packed stores, Vanmeare glared at his 'new' captors. Dunlendings have captured them and in their grim haste they had not taken into account that these people were watching their borders too intently. Vanmeare and Avalenne had hoped they would pass the land without incident. Unfortunately, it was clearly not the case.  
  
Vanmeare struggled with his binds while coughing out the dust that rose from the horse's stride to his throat. He was thrown at the back of the horse facing the ground making his chest and stomach pound against the saddle. Despite only walking in a slow procession, it hasn't eased the ache on Vanmeare's bruised chest. He knew that traveling this way even made the prisoners wearier. He hoped his sister was faring better than he was. The thoughts about her intruded into his mind since he couldn't see what happened to her after they were separated. He hoped that she was in the same group as he was.  
  
Vanmeare knew they were all heading to the Dunlendings camp. He also knew that they were loosing precious hours again. Frustration nagged him like a sore thumb that would not go away.  
  
He took a deep breath in hopes that it would relieve his already throbbing temples caused by the pressure of his blood not circulating properly through out his body. It might have been more than an hour being in the same position since his arms have also grown numbed too.  
  
Unknown to them, the slow pace of the Dunlendings provided ample time for the Elven riders to catch up with them. With barely a half a league ahead from the Dunlending group, Ilmelion, Himandel and Narquelion increased their distance yet keeping a discrete space just out from the Dunlendings hearing or out in their line of sight.  
  
The three Elves saw the rearguard of the contingent and they knew somewhere in that slow procession were the two prisoners who could be the riders they saw ahead of them, a few days ago.  
  
The elves also knew these weren't the only Dunlending group they have to contend with. The other group was behind them but hasn't moved out just yet.  
  
That second Dunlending contingent watched the three Elven riders passed through their look out points. Emboldened that it was only three Elf riders and not an army, the leader of the second group thought of boxing-in their prey before it was too late for them to escape.  
  
Orgar, leader of the second group snorted with delight at the plan he had thought up and having elf riders their additional prime catch burned his anticipation to a higher level. He could not wait.  
  
With a guttural signal to his men, Orgar led his group out in the open. It was a full Dunlending company and with a shout they charged at their prey.  
  
The three elves simultaneously glanced behind them and saw the cloud of dusts rising in the air, marked by the approaching second group.  
  
Himandel cast another grim look at the contingent of Dunlendings that was hot on their tracks. Although he knew they were far out from the pursuing group to cause any harm on them, it did not quell his anxiety.  
  
A rapid flutter of wings directed his attention above his head and saw a crebain flying passed overhead. No doubt carrying information of their whereabouts and a call to mount up to close in at their prospective captives.  
  
Himandel can not allow that to happen. Before he could get his bow, the bird fell from its flight with a thud as it hit the ground in front of them. His eyes saw an elven arrow struck clean in the middle of its body. Its wings quiver from the impact.  
  
Ilmelion had to steer his horse slightly to the right so that the animal would miss stomping on the dead bird that was lying on its direct path.  
  
Two pairs of eyes glanced towards Narquelion's direction as he was shouldering his bow.  
  
"I can not let that bird warn the rest of the Dunlendings." He responded dryly after receiving their individual arresting stares.  
  
Himandel chuckled beside Ilmelion. "Sometimes Narquelion, I believe you have a gift to read minds."  
  
The other elf warrior looked at him incredulously but he too soon played along with the jest.  
  
"Nay, friend. I do not wish to be a seer." He told them and the other companions burst into a light laugh before getting serious again.  
  
"Now, that we have given ourselves time, we should do something before," Ilmelion emphasized the last word and nodding ahead of them at the Dunlending group.  
  
"...they realized," continuing on. "...something is indeed afoot."  
  
"We will do something," Himandel repeated with full conviction and took out his bow for battle readiness.  
  
"It is a good day to die." He added and saw Ilmelion's jaw dropped in response to his obvious jest.  
  
Himandel and Narquelion spurred their steeds' forward. Leaving Ilmelion staring at the backs of the other two elves as he shook his head. Lastly, he spurred his own animal to follow them and soon he was riding shoulder to shoulder with the elven guards. He too, readied his bow and managed to see Narquelion affording him an encouraging smile.  
  
The messenger looked ahead of him as the Dunlending rearguard and their spears took solid form. Sometimes, he can not understand the warriors' jesting remarks.  
  
He surely was not afraid if they should not make it in this confrontation, but he was hoping to stay longer here in Middle Earth to serve Lord Elrond. Ah, but if it is your time, then one must accept it. He thought and soon pushed all thoughts at the back of his mind.  
  
Soon, a volley of rapid arrow strikes fell on the rearguard like rain, which left the contingent stunned. Their apparent inaction cost them several more of their men to be cut down from the precise strikes of the Elves, enough for them to cause chaos within the ranks.  
  
Grobin, one of the Dunlending commander shouted an order to his men to guard the captives while taking the rest to meet head on with the Elves that were bold enough take them out. He mounted on his horse and led ten of his men towards the brazen Elves.  
  
He wanted those Elves to be skinned for all their worth. Dark fury shone his eyes, which was equally met by a pair of steely brown eyes that had seen countless of battles more fearsome than this skirmish.  
  
Himandel notched an arrow into his bow and released it. The speed of his actions was lost to Grobin when he was suddenly unseated from his horse and stared up at the late afternoon sky from the ground. His last fading memory was that his throat seemed to have constricted and a sharp pain erupted in his head.  
  
Behind him, he did not see his men falter on their own mounts as the archers continued raining them with arrows. Soon more men fell from their horses.  
  
One Dunlending took one last glance at Grobin's body with an arrow sticking out from his throat. The man gulped as his head turned from side to side and saw the fate of his comrades. All dead lying on the ground. He was about to turn around unfortunately; he too was struck down.  
  
Erben squinted at his fallen men. His lips drew to a fine line.  
  
The Elves have easily dealt Grobin and his men and now he glanced around at the remaining five heads with him. They all stared back at him with fear. They knew they were in no match fighting against the Elves so with a frustrated shout, he led the remaining men away, leaving the captives behind. They dare not bring them to their camp for now.  
  
Avalenne who was watching the battle scene, gasped as the retreating Dunlending brushed her aside. She felt her thighs tightened along the sides of her horse to prevent herself from falling off from the animal to the ground. She did her best to right herself on the saddle despite her arms tied to her sides.  
  
Vanmeare looked sideways. He saw his sister fighting for balance on the saddle. Despite being strapped on the horse she managed to regain her balance. A sigh of relief washed over him when he saw her unharmed and that the Dunlendings have left them. He had heard that there were Elves fighting the Dunlendings and so far with his current position he could not see them.  
  
The sound of hoof beats approaching, was heard.  
  
"Elves." Avalenne told her a brother as she gazed at him before directing her gaze back at the visitors.  
  
"We came to rescue both of you," Narquelion called out while holding up an open palm in a gesture of peace. He brought his horse to a full stop and jumped down from the animal. He quickly strode to the man facing down on the saddle where he took out his dagger and cut through the binds tying the ankles and the wrists. He then helped him seated on the ground.  
  
Vanmeare groaned as his surroundings swam briefly before his eyes and felt his warm blood rapidly feeding his blood-deprived limbs back to its normal routine over his body. He slightly rubbed his aching arms to get his blood circulating.  
  
Himandel guided his horse towards the woman. He in turn, cut through her bindings with his own dagger.  
  
"Thank you," the woman profusely said.  
  
"We should not stay any longer," Ilmelion warned studying the dusty outline of the horizon behind them. The second Dunlending group was still heading towards them at full speed and gaining ground.  
  
Narquelion dropped to one knee to support the man. "Can you ride?" He asked still noticing that the man was having trouble getting his bearings after prolonged position riding on the horse on his stomach.  
  
"Yes," he finally worded out his response and he was soon helped to his feet and onto the horse.  
  
"Thank you, for rescuing us." He said as he gathered the reins and looking at their new companions.  
  
"Come we must leave this place. Soon it will be too dark for us to travel and we must not be caught here." Himandel told the others.  
  
After making sure that the two humans were well enough to take the reins of their respective horses, the five galloped hard for the next several hours before finally entering the Gap of Rohan and crossed the Fords of Isen. 


	10. Chapter Ten: Brief Meetings

Chapter Ten: Brief Meetings  
  
The five riders finally found a safe patch of area near the ford of Isen were they could take a few moments to rest their horses and for Vanmeare and Avalenne to gather their bearings. The elf captain also used the time get to know the new additions.  
  
"I am Himandel and these are my companions, Ilmelion and Narquelion. We are all from Rivendell." The elf captain introduced when they have stopped by a nearby glen.  
  
The human fellow raised his brow in quizzical manner. "I have not seen much of the Elves travel this way," he told them.  
  
"That is true," Himandel answered although he consciously did not offer any more explanation.  
  
"I am Vanmeare," the man began his own introduction while letting the remark from the elf slide for awhile. "And this is my sister," turning to the lady. "Avalenne."  
  
"What brings you out to Dunland territory with no escort?" Narquelion asked, his own curiosity mounting.  
  
"It was not by choice. We were on our way to Rohan after barely escaping from the Easterling slave traders." Vanmeare related.  
  
The Elves attentively listened to Vanmeare as he shared their experiences. They were surprised to hear of Easterlings and what ever they could glean from Vanmeare would be no doubt helpful to piece the puzzle. However, the change in the Elves demeanor came unnoticed by the two humans for it was too subtle for the brother and sister to easily detect.  
  
"We were waylaid near Weathertop after meeting with my sister's husband from Bree." Vanmeare continued as he put a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder when he noticed the downcast look on her face.  
  
Ilmelion directed his gaze at the woman and caught her staring through him with empty eyes. Avalenne abruptly looked away from him. She couldn't bear gazing straight into his eyes. The elven eyes seem to haunt her. They question her very soul.  
  
"Unfortunately, Nolan, my sister's husband was killed when the Easterling men came after the children. I was already knocked unconscious and provided no help." Vanmeare's voice grew quiet but his tone was hard.  
  
"I should have been there." His voice shook with anger when he spoke a moment later.  
  
Avalenne gripped her brother's hand. "Then I would have lost you as well." Uttering for the first time. "I can't live with that." She looked her brother with tear-filled eyes.  
  
Both brother and sister shared glances of thankful prayers and Vanmeare continued on while taking his sister's hand into his. "We traveled for almost four days in the wagon cages they have put us in when we came upon another travelling family. They suffered the same fate and there were rumors that the two girls gave the pursuing men a difficult time."  
  
"Oh," Himandel remarked, arching a graceful brow. "How so?" His forehead creased lightly as he thought back of the travel time made by the Easterlings. The proximity of the abandoned campsite that he, Elladan, Elrohir and the rest of the scouting group found several days ago began to nag in his mind.  
  
Vanmeare's forehead furrowed as he recalled the snippet of stories that filtered into their group as the prisoners used to talk of the chase to help passed the time while in captivity.  
  
"We heard that the woman gave such a fight until she was eventually dealt with." Vanmeare told them emphasizing the second word and the Elves understood what he was trying to say to them and were saddened and shocked at the loss of life.  
  
"Then, there was this girl, they say." He paused. "They say, she would have easily been caught had she not been rescued by the Elves." The man said and inquiringly looks at them. "Rivendell?" He mused out loud. "I vaguely hear the name these days but I seem to remember that it lies somewhere in the foot hills the Misty Mountains." He said in passing as he watched with curiosity at the three Elves before them.  
  
The Elves were quiet as they digested the information Vanmeare related. Coincidentally, the girl rescued by Lord Elrond's sons could turned out to be from the family, which the Easterlings captured but she managed to flee to the direction of the Ford Bruinen.  
  
Vanmeare was also silent, intrigued captured his heart as he continued observing the Elves. There were stories about them long ago told by rangers over the campfires when he was growing up. He had wished one day he would meet one of the Elves and now that he has, he felt close to revering them. He noticed their lips didn't move but he seems to have a feeling that some unknown manner of conversation was happening between these Elves for their eyes shone in a wordless understanding.  
  
Ilmelion cleared his throat a second later as if a signal that the discussion between themselves have ended.  
  
"We believe the girl from your encounter, is the same girl resting in our lord's house," Ilmelion put forth. "One of our people found her and rescued her from the pursuing men."  
  
Avalenne released a sigh. "Then at least his sister is alive." She spoke.  
  
"Avalenne?" Vanmeare questioningly turned to his sister. He didn't understand what his sister meant by that.  
  
"Remember the boy?" She started but when she was met with puzzled eyes from her brother. She continued. "The one, I was trying to bring the fever down?" She furnished further hints to her brother but when Vanmeare still shook his head, she continued with her own story.  
  
"When the band of Easterlings chased after the escaping girls, we witnessed their parents' fight with everything they have. We wanted to help them but we couldn't. We couldn't free ourselves from the chains inside the cages. In the end, they were killed and the boy was taken and he was added into our cage. No one went to check him." Her voice changed. Suddenly disgusted at recalling the other captives' reaction.  
  
"My boys, they helped me with him as much as they could in their little way. They have befriended him but I can see his deep pain. He wouldn't talk save only in his sleeping. He has bad dreams- every night." She stressed the words while shaking her head and fingered the reins of her horse.  
  
"He was talking in his sleep most of the time and kept asking for his sisters- Norleana and," her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the name of the other sister. "Anathea. Yes, her name is Anathea." Affirming the name to the Elves. When they have nodded. She continued with her tale.  
  
"The boy kept muttering their names in his sleep." Avalenne sadly related. "But we didn't hear anymore of what happened to them. Except, his parents were savagely taken care off and that we had to move again. Five more days into our travel before, we reached Novan's checkpoints. The name of the boy is Movlen." She informed them after a quiet spell. "I managed to coax only his name beyond that, I don't know where he was from or the names of his parents."  
  
"They soon herded us into a big tent where Novan, the slave head trader sized us up for delivery. He...he was responsible in separating my children from me." Avalenne told them as her voice taking an anguished tone. She couldn't contain her emotions. She was feeling very raw. She lost her husband and now there was a possibility she would never see her children again.  
  
"We have to go now, Vanmeare." She urgently said to her brother and no longer cared if she appeared disrespectful towards the Elves. The more time they tarried, the harder it would be to track the boys.  
  
Himandel and the others did not take it as an affront to them and they understood Avalenne's need for haste. They were shocked and angered at the events these two humans experienced and were very sympathetic for her loss. They knew Lord Elrond would dispatch scouts to assist them.  
  
"If our lord will permit us. After we have completed our errands we would like to extend our assistance to help recover your children." Narquelion offered.  
  
And for the first time, Avalenne's gaze was not empty and took noticed of the Elves. Her eyes glistened from the tears that already had moistened her cheeks.  
  
She looked into their eyes, trying not to tell them she was starting to loss hope.  
  
Gently spurring his horse forward, Himandel guided his steed and stopped beside the woman. "We will find your sons, Avalenne." He promised her.  
  
The woman nodded and did her best to believe the Elf's words.  
  
Himandel smiled and was relieved that the woman took heed of his words and that she has, even it was for a short while, no longer looked very ill at ease. He looked up at the sky and saw the first early stars peeking out from the sky. "We must find shelter for the night. In first light, we journey forth." Himandel instructed and soon the travelers found a shallow cave to rest.  
  
Being able game hunters, Himandel and Narquelion provided the dinner for the group while Ilmelion stayed with the humans to serve as a watch. When the other Elves returned, dinner was quickly set up and soon their human companions slept while the Elves silently talked amongst themselves and later retired for the night as well.  
  
A new morning came and was greeted by the soft glow over the left phase of the shallow valley, but was strong enough to penetrate until the mouth of the cave. Vanmeare strode near the opening and found that the Elves have busied re-hitching all the horses.  
  
"If you and your sister are ready to eat..." Ilmelion said letting his statement trail off as he directed him to the meal at hand.  
  
"We could have done it ourselves," Avalenne said a second later from behind and took her seat beside her brother who handed her a plate.  
  
"Tis nothing." Ilmelion replied who was later joined by the other two elves.  
  
The Elves have learned long ago that humans found it disconcerting if they witnessed an Elf not eating and that one could go for days without nourishment. So when Himandel and Narquelion reclaimed their seats by the campfire, they ate along with the humans. Conversation remained light but both kindred have started to trust one another and Vanmeare shown extreme curiosity to their new friends much to the amusement of the Elves. Even Avalenne couldn't help but laugh at a story shared by Ilmelion, which came, as a nice surprise for her brother since it had been quite a while since his sister laugh after the tragedies.  
  
Two hours later on the road, Vanmeare and Avalenne guided their horses' northwest direction towards their home while the Elves proceeded further on en route to Gondor.  
  
"Till our paths cross again, friends." Vanmeare said in parting.  
  
"Aye, Vanmeare." Himandel replied and gripped the forehand of the man in a customary ways of Men for parting friends.  
  
With that the riders separated and rode away. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Hidden Troubled Heart  
  
Anathea removed the crease from her soft teal-colored gown, and looked at the mirror. She had two reasons why she was excited today. One, she was looking forward to go out and explore the grounds of Rivendell as Estel promised and the other reason, was she was no longer limping. The Elf lord had given his approval yesterday and she was looking forward to stretch her legs. She smiled when her feathered friend found his way into the room and perched atop on the curvature of the mirror.  
  
"Hello there!" She enthusiastically greeted the bird.  
  
The Thrush chirped back.  
  
"I'm going out today with Estel. I hope to see you outside too." She said and turned to the sound of the door opening.  
  
"Who are you talking to?" queried a boy, smiling.  
  
"My friend," Anathea answered and directed Estel's gaze at the Thrush sitting atop on the mirror.  
  
"I see," nodding as he broke in a funny smile. "I had thought you have turn in for the worse." He teased.  
  
The girl reddens but later took the joke in stride. Estel laughs at the reaction.  
  
"Good, I was only joking, Anathea." He said and reached for her hand. "Come on." He guides her out of the room.  
  
"Good bye." Anathea waves at her feathered friend, which chirped one more time before flying out of her room.  
  
The two friends walked along the corridor during which Estel filled the time with one of his stories. It made the two children chatter for no end with excitement throughout the way.  
  
The Elves they meet would give them a nod, a pat on the head or a smile as they neared the hallway. All were astounded the bit of noise the two children were capable of generating. Up ahead, the children saw Lord Elrond conversing with another elf, Estel recognized as to be Glorfindel.  
  
Lord Elrond stood by the entranceway, slightly turning from Glorfindel and regarded the two children with a smile.  
  
Anathea caught her breath as she looked up the elves and bowed in respect to them.  
  
"Where are you two going?" Elrond asked as he placed a hand on Anathea's shoulder.  
  
"Estel, is showing me the grounds. Is it all right, if I go with him? I'll be careful." Her voice almost pleaded as she asked permission. Even Estel silently pleaded to his father to permit them.  
  
Holding back a chuckle but his eyes contained that mirth Elrond nodded his answer. "Of course, you can, Anathea." The elf lord replied and turning to his son. "Estel, take good care of Anathea. If she feels tired, bring her back home." He instructed the boy.  
  
"I will father." Estel replied.  
  
"I am happy to see you are now on your feet." The unknown elf standing beside Elrond spoke. "Yes, I'm glad my ankle's healed. Thank you very much." Turning back to the elf lord.  
  
"You are welcome, child." Elrond replied.  
  
"I am Glorfindel," the elf introduced himself and thrust his hand to the girl who shyly looked down on the floor.  
  
Seeing the extended hand, Anathea shook it. Glorfindel smiled and firmly held her hand. Instantly, the girl relaxed.  
  
"Well, this is indeed a good day for a walk on the grounds Elrond observed as he watched the children stepped away from him.  
  
"I can't wait to show Anathea my favorite spot!" Estel yelled and soon the children were out of their sight.  
  
**********  
  
Midday arrived and the Elves knew that Estel has come back when his loud voice rang inside the house. The children breezed into the hallway zigzagging from passing Elves as they ran heading towards the dining hall. No doubt their hungry stomachs were taking over and didn't notice the looks of shock being shot at them by the other Elves.  
  
Elladan had turned his head back into the corridor at the direction of rushing feet and saw Estel barreling down the way looking scruffy. Running two steps behind him was Anathea who has successfully decorated her hair with hay and her gown had an ugly tear running from the knee down.  
  
Sighing disapprovingly at his brother, he caught Estel before the boy could enter the dining hall looking very disheveled.  
  
"I think not, little one," he said with a hint of sternness in his tone as he trapped the boy into his arms.  
  
"Where in the name of Valar have you two been?" eyeing the pair with incredulity lighting in his eyes as he straightened up and suspiciously looking at Estel.  
  
Estel grinned mischievously at his brother. "Oh, we were around." He answered cryptically but before his older brother had a chance to interrogate him any further he quickly turned his heel and grabbed Anathea's hand and went back to where they came.  
  
Elladan wagged his head as he watched the children ran back. "Clean yourselves and join us for lunch!" He called at the retreating figures then he resumed walking towards the dining hall.  
  
A few minutes into the luncheon the children once again showed themselves and head straight to the table all fresh and clean.  
  
Elrond watched his youngest adopted son took his seat beside him while Anathea found a seat next to Elrohir. The elf lord noted the attachment Elrohir had with the girl. A cough sounded near his elbow and was a given a start when Estel choked a little with his food.  
  
"Estel, what have I told you when you insist in gobbling down your food?" The elf lord reminded the little boy as he saw him reached out for the glass of water and took small sips from it.  
  
"Sorry," Estel said after a moment had passed and he was breathing easily. He puts the glass back and gazes around the table when his brothers chuckled.  
  
"I was hungry." He lamely explained. "I wanted to finish my lunch so I can show Anathea more of the grounds." He said.  
  
This time the elf lord shook his head. "Half a day out is enough Estel, Anathea will need her rest in the afternoon."  
  
"But father," Estel started to retort but was silence when Elladan placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.  
  
Estel turned from looking at his father to Elladan. "You, my brother have errands to do in the afternoon." His older brother reminded him.  
  
"But...but..." Estel continued with his protest but didn't get very far.  
  
"No, BUT'S. You will help both of us at the stables, which I believed you have become so acquainted with a while ago." The older twin said in a clear tone while pointedly arching an eyebrow.  
  
Estel groaned at the usual chores that he had to do this afternoon but finally consented.  
  
"You and Anathea can roam around Rivendell tomorrow." His father compensated.  
  
"Now, tell me where you both have gone as your brother told us that a while ago, you looked like you were ran over by a hunting party." He said in a jest.  
  
Estel chuckled at the joke and began to relate to his family their adventures.  
  
**********  
  
Hours passed and Anathea watched from her room, the sun as it slowly dipped behind the mountain range letting shadow stretched her long hands now to cover the hidden vale in a cloak of dusk.  
  
Anathea was sitting on her bed, wondering about many things. She was facing the balcony and thought about her nightmare again. The dream started about the men chasing her and capturing her. She sighed and drew her knees closer to her chest and hugged them.  
  
She wasn't aware that she had doze off after reading the book Estel lent her. Her gaze settled on the book where it lay opened to her left, at the last page she was studying a while ago. The book contained many beautiful pictures inside and below each picture was a text that she had not the skill to read its meaning to provide a good translation. The writings fascinated her and wondered more of the elf-folk. Despite the obvious hindrance she continued flipping through the illustrated pages until her eyes have grown tired and light sleep came to her weary little body.  
  
The bad dream had wakened her with a start, the sun has set and in an hour the first stars began to twinkle up on the sky. The fair elven voices began to sing songs unfamiliar to her ears, which echoed through out the house and the surrounding area. Anathea soon decided to take a walk out of her room.  
  
The girl began to walk towards the Hall of Fire for she heard most of the singing coming from there.  
  
She has never been into that chamber and this morning she and Estel had gone passed it. There wasn't an opportunity to visit it any earlier too until now.  
  
She tentatively peers into the chamber, still hesitant whether she was allowed to venture far in the other parts of the house on her on. Tiny fears knocked around her heart as its beat thumped a little faster than she wanted. She continued to observe several of the Elves gathered inside but couldn't see who were singing though.  
  
The Elves seemed oblivious that she was standing there until a warm feeling flow through her. She turned her head to her right and saw Elrohir standing beside her.  
  
"Anathea, what are you doing alone by the entranceway?" Elrohir asked and led the girl inside.  
  
"I just thought I'm not permitted to come in." She explained. Her cheeks flushed from awkwardness of being caught. Her eyes were wide with wonder since she hadn't seen so many Elves in her life gathered in one place.  
  
As they pass into the room they saw a group of Elves seated off the far left of the chamber, they all looked up from their deep conversation and gave the little girl a collective smile as she took a seat near the fireplace.  
  
"The Hall of Fire is a place to commune for everyone, Anathea." Elrohir said, drawing the child's attention to him.  
  
Elrohir noticed how unusually big her eyes were and she was pale under the light. This hinted something was bothering the girl.  
  
"If you need someone to talk to, I am hear to listen," he offered in a gentle tone and waited for her to speak up.  
  
Anathea paused and fiddled with her fingers. She badly needed someone to be there for her, to take the fears away from her.  
  
After looking back at Elrohir, a visible shake came over her body as a remnant of the nightmare flashed into her mind. It frightened her that she quickly got to her feet and jumped to where Elrohir was seated and threw herself into his open arms.  
  
The elf was stunned and embraced the little girl who was shaking so much.  
  
"What is it, Anathea?" His voice belied the disturbing feeling he was having.  
  
Anathea didn't speak at once instead took the moment to hear his beating heart that was so soothing to hear. His voice was warm that the fear, which lingered in her mind dissipated into nothingness.  
  
He held her for a few more minutes lending his presence to calm the child who was still clearly trying to fight the demons that haunt her.  
  
Finally, the girl looked into his dark brown eyes. "The nightmare came back." She started as her eyes fell on the brooch; her forefinger traced the silver-gray curves of the brooch. Anathea felt Elrohir's arms drew her closer, letting her head, rest on his chest.  
  
"It started when I was running, running away from them. Everything was black. I couldn't see where I was going then hands grab me from behind." The girl shivered from the effect of the bad dream. "It comes back over and over again."  
  
Elrohir kissed her lightly on her head. "The dream's over, Anathea. The men will not harm you anymore."  
  
"But how I can stop them from hurting me in my dream?" She looked up again, searching his eyes for the security she needed.  
  
The Elf pondered for a while before answering. "Long ago, I too was plagued with bad dreams. My mother would remain in my room till very late to assure me that I am safe. She also would say a prayer that I have memorized so that every time I say it, I knew she was there beside me and that I am safe. Would you like to know the prayer?" He asked looking down at the child.  
  
When Anathea nodded. Elrohir first recited the prayer in Elvish then set out in teaching the prayer in common tongue for the little girl to memorize and explain what each line mean to the next so she would understand what the prayer meant. He then, switched to grey tongue and taught her how the words were enunciated in the one verse prayer. To his surprise the girl quickly learned it just as the dinner bell rang.  
  
Anathea smiled and felt secured as Elrohir held her hand. Together they walked out of the room for the dinner hall. Little did Elrohir know that the friendship he has cultivated with the girl would prove to be an anchor that will see Anathea through the many hardships she will go through in her life. 


End file.
